Getting More Like Fiction Each Day
by GirlX2
Summary: AKA, The Incredible Shrinking House. Wilson is used to taking care of House after hangovers, the flu, and various ODing, so fate decides to shake things up a little…HW eventually. Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

Getting More like Fiction Each Day

By GirlX2

(A quick note to my POTC readers: I have NOT given up on 'Shoebox'. My muse is being fickle though, and I wrote this as a break.)  
-

The first thing House diagnosed that day was something he didn't even open his eyes for. While still lying in bed, he could feel an unaccustomed stiffness in his back and non-operated on limbs.

'I,' He thought. 'Am behind on my Vicodin schedule.'

Risking temporary blindness by way of his shabby curtains, he opened his eyes. The clock beside him read eight, his usual awakening hour.

'Okay, not behind on the schedule. Must have slept wrong.' House re-evaluated his diagnosis.

Groaning his usual groans, he slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His cane was in its accustomed place against the nightstand. As he reached for it a tiny flutter of discordance niggled at him.

He'd long ago learned it was crucial to pay attention to these flutters.

He slowly pulled his hand back and did a mental check on the situation for anything out of the ordinary. Finally, the uneasy feeling bubbled up into a brilliant insight, much like others before it.

"My feet aren't touching the floor." House murmured and directed his gaze downward.

-

After nearly twenty minutes of arm pinching, logistic working, and any other methods of awakening failed, House climbed (literally) onto his sofa and sat in puzzlement. It wasn't a dream, coma fantasy, or hallucination…at least not one that his Infallible Logic had yet dispelled. Something had happened that had reduced him to thirty seven inches in height (He'd brought his thirty six inch cane into the living room to do a comparative analysis), exactly half his normal size.

"I can't go in to work like this." He muttered, thinking longingly of his motorcycle. A long ride would have been good, but there was no way he'd be able to control the bike in this state. He couldn't even manage his clothes, as tee shirt and boxers were all but falling off his now child-sized body.

"Better call in some backup." He picked up the ridiculously oversized phone.

-

"This is INSANE!"

House watched with mild fascination as Wilson panicked. The younger man was pacing irregularly through House's living room, stepping over the usual piles of junk.

"When…how…WHY…"

"Finish a sentence Wilson."

"You did something, or took something, or…or experimented on yourself, is that it?" Wilson grasped at straws.

House shrugged. "Barring a mix-up with my vicodin, no. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"A mix up? That could have-"

"No, unless sugar-pills are suddenly being produced by the guy from 'Honey I Shrunk the Kids'." House cut him off. "I got a bottle with placebos. I think Cuddy slipped them to me, as if I wouldn't notice."

"Yeah. Concentrate on that. That's very constructive." Wilson gave up and joined House on the couch, causing the smaller man to bounce.

"Have you put on weight?"

Wilson was rubbing his forehead. "Why are you being so calm about this?"

"I think the vicodin may have mellowed me out." House shrugged.

Wilson looked down at him in horror. "You took a full dose?"

"Well, withdrawal is just so annoying first thing in to morning." House retorted.

"You could have OD'd! A full dose at your size is like giving pills to a three year old!" Wilson shouted. "And God only knows what could happen if whatever caused this is in your system."

"I'd still rather not add vomiting, shivering, and excess pain to my current situation." House said.

"So what are we supposed to do now?"

"Easy. You get me some clothes that fit, we go to the clinic, and make my team figure out how to fix this."

"You _are _totally insane." Wilson marveled. "I never really wanted to believe it, but it's true."

"And get me something nice. I know I've turned into my own mini-me, but I won't wear anything with Power Rangers or rainbows on it."

"You can go out like that! You could be contagious." Wilson argued.

"All the more reason to get me into a sterile hospital."

"For all we know this could start an epidemic!"

"If that's the case you'd better go now, before you can't reach the gas pedals." House replied. "Because if this _is _catching you'resoon going to be joining me in Munchkin-land."

Wilson started to form a retort, but changed his mind halfway through. "You'd better shave or get something to cover your face. If anyone sees your stubble they'll know you're not a kid, and the last thing we need is more attention."

"Constructive criticism. The last refuge of the defeated." House said, smirking.

"I'll be back within an hour." Wilson stood up and started for the door.

"Bring back some doughnuts." House yelled after him. "I'm going to need a serious sugar-high to cope with the mental trauma of shrinking."

-

By the time Wilson returned House had bathed and pared down the wildest bits of his stubble. A clean tee-shirt hung on him, fitting no better than the one he'd slept in.

"What's up Doc?"

"I managed to get some clothes that should fit you." Wilson put a brown shopping bag on the table. "Shoes were a problem, so I just got some flip-flops."

House rummaged though the bag, unimpressed. "No…no…no way in _hell_…Ah, this is alright."

He pulled out a pre-rumpled black shirt reading 'Rock and Roll'.

"Just hurry. Cuddy is already pissed that you aren't coming in. I don't want to be excessively late on top of that."

House grabbed a few articles out of the bag and disappeared into the next room. "Any idea on how to sneak me in?"

"I could put you in Cameron's purse." Wilson replied dryly.

"Ha ha. Making fun of the shrunken cripple, really classy." House emerged a few moments later, sounding reassuringly like himself. He slowly limped over to Wilson.

"You're still going to need something to lean on. I could saw off part of your cane-"

"And wreak Old-Flamey? Never!" House cut him off.

" 'Old-Flamey'?" Wilson raised one eyebrow.

"You try thinking up a cool nickname for a cane."

Wilson sighed. "I'll just cut down a yardstick. Do you have one?"

"Yeah, in the storage unit outside."

"Then just wait in here a few minutes. I'll fix it up, then we can leave."

"Y'know, if this condition means I can get people to do stuff for me all the time without arguing, I may just want to keep it." House called after him.

"Great, _now _he's mister positive." Wilson grumbled as he went to the shed. "Shrinking has accomplished what even Zoloft couldn't."

'How _am _I going to sneak him in?' The Oncologist wondered as he located the yardstick and a handsaw. 'I could try and rush him past security…claim he's my nephew and keep his face covered…'

'And how do you explain the walking stick?' His inner critic demanded.

'Damn it.' Wilson bit his lip. He slowly began to saw the stick in half. 'I'll have to hide him somehow.'

He finished sawing through the wood. It was rough, but it would do.

'Hopefully once we're in there he'll be sitting down and not using it. We're going to have to run MIR, EKG, blood work and God knows what else.'

"I'm going to run tests on my best friend, who has shrunk to half his size overnight." He said aloud to see if it made any more sense that way.

It didn't.

"This is insane. Totally insane."

"If you're done being melodramatic I'm ready to go." House said, meeting him at the door.

Wilson glanced around quickly, trying to spot anyone looking in their direction. "Get in the car before someone sees you!"

"You're ashamed of me." House replied in mock disappointment and snatched the makeshift cane from him. Wilson hurried to the car and opened the back door.

"Get in!"

"Why am I riding in the back?"

"Because you're too small to ride in the front. The seatbelt can't restrain you properly."

"Mmm…Nope, don't care." House said, opening the passenger door.

"House!" Wilson whisper-yelled

"Wilson!" House replied. "We're wasting valuable testing time. Are you gonna get in or what?"

"So insane…" Wilson muttered, going to the Driver's side.

-  
To be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

-

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Unless you have a better idea, this is the only way to get you in unnoticed."

Wilson hefted a large cardboard box down from the shelf. He began to empty the contents (new sponges) at House's feet. The two were currently squashed into a supply closet on the first floor.

"I can't fit in there!" House whined. "I'm not David Blaine for God's sake."

"I could always wrap you in a blanket and carry you in." Wilson replied.

House glared up at him. "I don't think so. I still have a _shred_ of dignity."

"I got you as far as this unnoticed. Any farther and there will be security checkpoints. Do you really want to explain this to the security staff?" The younger Doctor pointed out.

"…No." House said after a moment.

"Then just _try_. If you really can't fit we'll try something else."

House eyed the box warily. "Not a word about this to anyone."

Wilson raised his hand. "I swear. Now get _in_."

House rolled his eyes, but complied. He sat cross-legged in the cardboard cube and looked up at Wilson. His head was sticking up a good six inches from the lip. "Happy now? I still don't fit."

"Lean down." Wilson replied. "I think you could just make it."

House tried and swore under his breath. Wilson was right.

"I'll take the elevator and try to be as quick as possible." The brown-eyed man promised as he leaned down.

"Just don't drop me. I don't want to add a fracture to the situation." House muttered.

"I won't." Wilson shut the flap.

House's stomach dropped as Wilson picked the box up. It tilted alarmingly to one side and the shrunken doctor was sure he was going to fall. A few moments later the box was righted and began to bob up and down. He had never suffered from claustrophobia, but the motion combined with the tiny space and lack of air unnerved him. House took slow breaths, reminding himself that a thin layer of material was all that separated him from freedom. He'd be out soon.

Wilson was having a much harder time. As small as he was, House had to weigh at least thirty five pounds. He hurried past the security desk, trying to seem nonchalant.

"Dr. Wilson?"

"Yes?" He turned around slowly.

"You dropped this." The guard approached him, holding the section of yardstick he'd cut.

He tried not to break into a relieved grin. "Thanks."

"Do you need some help with that?" The guard thumped the wood onto the box top.

"Ah, no, thanks anyway." He backed toward the elevator. "It's nothing."

"Okay." The guard shrugged and turned back to his desk.

Wilson stepped into the elevator. Several interns were in it as well, leaving no room to set the box down. He shifted uncomfortably as the elevator climbed slowly to his floor.

As soon as the doors parted Wilson rushed out, yelling a quick "Sorry!" back to the intern he'd jostled. He hurried to his office door and tried to grab his keys without dropping the box. It knocked against the wall as he snagged the key ring. A muffled "Ow!" seemed to resonate in the hallway. Wilson jammed the key into the knob and twisted, nearly spilling both himself and House onto the floor as the door sprang open. He managed to keep his balance and set the box down. House opened the flaps as Wilson locked the door again.

"What the hell was that!" The diagnostician demanded angrily. He climbed out of the box and grabbed the makeshift cane from the floor. "You can't carry a box for five minutes without having a muscle spasm?"

"You're heavy!" Wilson shot back, annoyed. "Not to mention that is a large and awkward box."

"You picked it, stop whining."

"I'M NOT…Argh!" Wilson half-sat, half-fell into his chair, exasperated. "I'm not going to argue about this. We're here, we can call your team in and try to fix this."

House approached the desk to fire back one of his patented Houseisms, and realized somewhat belatedly that at his new stature he could barely see over the thing. He sighed and tried to climb onto the desktop. After a few moments of ungraceful struggling he succeeded.

Wilson watched him, looking less angry and more concerned. "Doing okay there?"

"Fine." House panted. He brandished the stick at the younger man. "Nobody hears about this either."

"If I ever need to blackmail you I've got so much material now…" Wilson murmured, smiling slightly. "So, do you want to call them or should I?"

"You do it. We'll make it a surprise." House said sarcastically. He leaned back against a stack of old medical books, trying to catch his breath.

Wilson nodded and picked up the phone. 'If I start humming 'Short People' I think House really will kill me.'

-

"Wh…What…"

"Someone better give Chase a downer before he strokes out."

The Duckling were all gaping at their boss, who was about the size of a three-year old child (A skinny, drug addicted three year old, but the same height nonetheless). He was sitting on Wilson's desk. The oncologist was currently making his rounds, but promised to be back as soon as he could.

"What happened?" Chase finally managed.

"I decided to see if 'Shrink to fit jeans' really work." House rolled his eyes.

"This is impossible." Cameron bent down to get a better look at him.

House shrugged. "Okay, then I'm having one hell of an acid trip."

"You were fine yesterday." Foreman said. "Did you do anything differently than normal?"

"Come to think of it I _did _drink a beaker of strange green fluid. Thanks Foreman." House gave him a bored look. "If I had any idea about what caused this I'd have told you already."

"So what do we do now?" Chase asked quietly.

House picked up a sheet of paper and a pencil. "As Wilson doesn't have a whiteboard, this will have to do. Differential Diagnosis."

The team stared blankly at the older man.

"C'mon, we have a shrunken man and no other symptoms. This is what mad scientists dream about."

"Um…Osteoporosis can cause loss of height due to bone fractures." Chase said hesitantly.

"Obviously not the case here, since we've got overall size reduction, but it's a start." House wrote 'Ost' on the paper and slashed through it. "Anything else?"

"Plenty of things can cause rapid weight loss. There are a number of wasting diseases found worldwide." Foreman said. "But that doesn't explain the height loss."

"Okay, one more thing off the list." House repeated the writing and slashing. "Cameron, any thoughts?"

"Other than being smaller nothing else has changed?" Cameron asked while placing two fingers on his wrist

"Stop that, I'm not having a heart attack." House shook himself free of her grip. "And yes, I feel the same as always."

"Then I'd suspect it's not a coma fantasy." She replied dryly.

House rolled his eyes. "Brilliant."

"We've got no cause and an unprecedented syndrome. We're not going to find the answer by ruling things out." Chase said.

"So we need to do some tests to figure this out."

"What test could possibly explain this?" Foreman said.

"We'll know that once we start _testing_." House replied, annoyed. "Just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean you don't have to listen."

"One of us could do a physical and the others could run blood work." Chase said.

"Finally, someone get it!" House said. "Foreman, Cameron, get ready to do blood work. Chase--Get Wilson to come back and do my physical."

"I could-"

"Yeah, but you're not going to." House cut him off. "You get to stand guard duty so Cuddy doesn't find me."

"Cuddy doesn't even know you're here." Chase protested.

"Like that's ever stopped her from wrecking my life."

"Fine. I don't want to see you naked anyway." Chase muttered as he left.

"Okay, now where did Wilson hide his stash?" House lay flat on his stomach and opened the top desk drawer. "Here we are."

He'd produced a syringe still in its plastic case. Cameron and Foreman exchanged glances. House's personality (and his notions about boundaries) had obvious been unaffected by the mystifying change.

House quickly stripped the plastic off it. Cameron reached to take the syringe from him, but the older doctor gave her a reproachful glare.

"I'm smaller, not dumber."

"I was just trying to help."

"Help by running blood work." House replied as he plunged the needle into his arm. A few seconds later he withdrew it and held it out to Foreman. "Don't lose that."

Foreman rolled his eyes and took it. "C'mon, we'd better get started."

"Are you going to be alright by yourself?" Cameron looked concerned.

"Don't worry. If a tarantula shows up I'll fend it off ." House replied, brandishing the stick at her 'karate' style.

Cameron rolled her eyes at this, but finally got the message.

"C'mon." Foreman said, opening the door. The two exited, leaving House alone on Wilson's desk.

The diagnostician took the few minutes he had alone to go carefully over the preceding day's events. He'd been over them several times already, but felt like he was missing something. He honestly _couldn't _remember anything out of the ordinary happing, barring the placebos…

"Placebos." House murmured. He'd taken three doses of the counterfeit pills before becoming suspicious. 'I would have noticed earlier than that if they hadn't provided any real pain relief. The placebo effect doesn't work _that _well, especially with addicts.'

"If they were providing any kind of relief they weren't placebos." He said aloud.

'Then what the hell were they? A pill that alleviates _some _pain, but looks to be a sugar-pill on closer inspection? That makes no sense.'

"It makes no sense unless someone wanted me to _think _they were placebos." He realized. "Someone wanted me to take the pills and then forget about them.

"Damn it."

-

Wilson hurried through the doorway to his office, locking it behind him. He wasn't taking any chances that the miniature doctor would be spotted.

Said doctor didn't seem to be in the room however. 

"House?" Wilson approached his desk slowly, slightly puzzled. Surely House wouldn't have left the office. 

"BOO!"

"AHH!" Wilson let out an involuntary shriek as House popped up behind the desk. He was standing on Wilson's chair, grinning.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" Wilson gasped.

"Just keeping you on your toes Jimmy." He replied. "What took you so long?"

"I have _actual _patients to attend to. Ones who don't ask me to investigate something completely bizarre and unexplainable. " Wilson grumbled.

"Bizarre yes, unexplainable no." House shrugged.

Wilson's eyes widened. "They found the cause in your blood work?" 

"Nope. It was the placebos." House said.

"_What_?" 

House grinned up at him. "Shocking I know. You've been right twice in one day."

Wilson placed a hand on his forehead. "Okay. You can explain while I'm checking you over." 

"Goody goody."

-

"Damn Wilson, do you keep that thing in an icebox?" House shifted uncomfortably. "I think its frozen to my skin."

"Your heartbeat is elevated." Wilson sounded concerned. He moved the stethoscope a little, trying to get a better impression. House squirmed, due in equal parts to cold and tickling. Finally he withdrew the instrument. House wasted no time in putting his shirt back on.

"Well, nothing seems terribly abnormal." Wilson placed the stethoscope on the desk. "Your heart is beating a little fast, but that's probably due to stress."

"Great, aside from being miniature, I'm perfectly healthy." House's comment was accented by a series of knocks at the door. "My Aussie sense is tingling."

"Did you actually tell him to use a secret knock?" Wilson asked in disbelief.

"Yeah and he screwed it up. That was not even close to 'In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida'."

Wilson shook his head and went to unlock the door. Chase entered quickly, looking relieved about something.

"Cuddy is going to be at an off-site meeting for the rest of the day." He reported.

"Good. Now you guys can sneak me into the testing center."

"Maybe first we should tell them about the pills." Wilson interjected.

"Pills?" Chase echoed.

"All in good time." House hopped off the desk. "Now, is there a way to get me downstairs without anyone seeing?"

"We could put you on a gurney and keep you covered up. Anyone who sees us will assume you're a child." Chase shrugged.

"I like it." House nodded in approval. "Grab one, and see how Cameron and Forman are coming along with the blood work."

Chases didn't reply, but had a peculiar little smirk.

"What?"

"I'm just not used to looking down at you." Chase replied, not bothering to hide his amusement. "It's weird. You're almost…cute."

"_Now _is when you come out of the closet?" House demanded. The smirk vanished off Chase's face. "When I can't spread it around? This sucks even worse than I thought."

"Never mind." Chase muttered, embarrassed. He quickly left the room.

"Why does everyone seem to think mini equals cute?" This was directed at Wilson.

Wilson shrugged. "People equate smaller beings with cuteness. Your height is similar to a toddler's after all."

"No wonder Cameron's gone even more maternal." House snorted.

"She only wants to help. We all do." Wilson replied.

"Helping…annoying…Lucky they seem to go hand in hand around here."

Wilson sighed. 'Its gonna be a long day.'

-

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

"Its lucky we're having a slow day, or this would never work." Foreman muttered as the MRI finished up. "We'd have too many patients needing an MRI."

"There's nothing abnormal showing up." Cameron was chewing her lip as she watched the initial readout. "Whatever the process was that shrunk him, it's stopped. If he's right about the pills causing it, it may be out of his system entirely."

"That's good." A note of relief crept into Wilson's voice.

"Yeah, but it also means we have no way of seeing how this happened in the first place." Foreman replied. "Which makes our chances of understand it slim to nil."

"It's only one test." Cameron replied. "We could still find something by testing the pills House still has."

"You don't expect to though." Wilson said quietly. He was watching the MIR machine intently, ready to stop the process should anything seem remotely wrong.

"I wouldn't count it out." Cameron said. "If we gave up after one negative test-"

"We'd be as lousy as House always says." Foreman interjected, smiling slightly.

"There was nothing in his blood work?" 

"There weren't any abnormal chemicals." Cameron said. "His calcium levels were low, but that's probably due to the vicodin."

As the long metal slab pulled out of the cylinder House sat up. "Can I have my clothes back now? I want to get out of here before the closet case sees me."

"Which one of us is the closet case this week?" Foreman muttered as he finished punching up the readout.

"Chase." Wilson replied before joining House. He had the small pile of clothing in his arms.

"Anything on the initial readout?" House asked.

"Nothing so far."

The diagnostician nodded. "I didn't think there would be. The pills are most likely out of my system by now."

"_If_ that's what cause it." Wilson replied, handing him the clothes.

"Please." House scoffed. "We've been through this routine enough times to know I'm always right."

"You're _eventually _right." Wilson amended.

"Yeah, yeah." House grumbled, changing back into his clothes.

"So what now?"

"Now that we have probable cause I'm going to go home."

"You should stay here. There are other tests they'll want to do." Wilson glanced back at the other doctors.

"I'm not going to be able to pass off any more tests as random scans." House replied. "Cuddy will catch on. And I don't _need _any other tests at the moment. You said I was healthy."

"It's impossible to say for sure. You _seem _healthy, but this is totally unprecedented. You could go into organ failure from trauma, or seize up due to stress. _Anything _could happen."  
"If I felt iffy, maybe. But I've got no symptoms of either of those things. I'm not going to spend my day off hiding here while my team runs tests on those pills."

"You can't be at home alone." Wilson crossed his arms. "It's not safe."

"Fine. But this time you're getting me out of here in a way that doesn't involve a box."

-

"When I said 'doesn't involve a box', I meant something _more _dignified." House whined.

"Nobody will know it's you." Wilson replied as he pulled the gigantic hoodie over House's head. "And unless you want to walk down the stairs this is the only way to get you out in a low-profile manner."

"I could jump off the balcony."

"Again, low-profile and broken bones don't really go together."

"Fiiine." House sighed, giving in. "But you tell no one."

"That's fine with me." Wilson replied as he picked House up.

House quickly found himself balanced on Wilson's side, legs splayed, ala 'The toddler carry'. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been picked up by anyone, let alone carried. It was an extremely weird feeling. The hood of his jacket was pulled down, nearly obscuring all his vision. He buried his face in Wilson's chest as they emerged from the stairwell and onto the ground floor. No one seems to question the doctor carrying a toddler out the door.

'We need better security.' House made a mental note. 'This is an Amber Alert waiting to happen.'

-

An hour later found Wilson back at House's place, a small bag in hand.  
"This really is insane."

"You lived here." House pointed out. "How is spending the night weird?"

"I feel like I'm babysitting." Wilson muttered. House squinted up at him. "What?"

"Calling me juvenile based on actions is one thing. Using my size for the basis is annoying." He grumbled.

"Sor-ry." Wilson replied, going into the kitchen. He'd brought over some basic necessities such as milk and bread, remembering House's usual penchant to order everything in. He returned to the living room a few moments later and plopped down onto the couch beside the other man.

"What are you going to do if we can't fix this?"

"C'mon, General Hospital is on." House protested. "No deep thinking allowed."  
"You need to think about it." Wilson said quietly.

House rolled his eyes. "If we can't find a way to change me back I'll just have to adapt. Can't be any harder than adjusting to a giant hole in my leg."

"Yeah, all you needed to get thought that was a total break with your girlfriend and vicodin addiction. Well done." Wilson's voice became startlingly bitter.

House took his eyes off the TV. "You're worried I can't handle this."

"Who the hell could!" The younger man's voice rose. "It's insane, completely illogical. There's been no precedent, EVER. It could…there could be complications."

"You think it could kill me." House replied in the same flat tone.

Wilson ran a hand back though his hair. "I don't know _what _it could do."

"_That's _why you've been acting so clingy." House's eyes lit up. "You're afraid that if you leave me alone something is going to happen."

"Yes!" Wilson shouted. "If you have to hear it, yes. I'm worried that something is going to happen to you."

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

House sighed. "There's nothing I can say to you that will make you less worried is there?"

"I'll stop worrying when I know that you'll to be okay." Wilson said softly. He wasn't about to cry, but his eyes had darkened.

House didn't look pleased about this. "I don't need you worrying yourself sick over this. One of us needs to stay healthy, and you're the only one who can reach the pedals in the car."

Wilson shook his head, but didn't reply. In his own strange way House was trying to make him feel better. The older man was actually giving him what passed for a concerned look.

"If if will make you feel any better you can check me over again before I go to sleep. Whatever gets that abandoned puppy look off your face."

Wilson smiled a little at this. "Okay."

House picked up the nearby remote (which was roughly the size of a large paperback book to him). "It's a good thing I've got Tivo, or I'd have to kick your ass for making me miss this."

"What, Luke and Laura getting back together?"

House snorted derisively at this. "That is _so _last year. If you're not gonna keep up with the plot, don't expect me to fill you in."

Wilson's smile grew into a grin. "I'll remember that the next time you ask me about The OC."

"Hey, I would have seen that episode if my patient hadn't started bleeding all over the place."

"Mm-hm."

The two settled back to watch.

-

To Be Continued...


	4. Chapter 4

-

"How can it _still _be cold? It's been lying on a kitchen table all night for God's sake!" House whined as Wilson placed the stethoscope on his chest. The Oncologist was giving him a final once over before bed.

"It's the law of nature. Stethoscope's have to be cold in order to annoy you as much as possible." Wilson replied dryly. "Breath in."

House complied. "Well?"

"Everything still seems fine. Your heartbeat is still a _little _quicker than normal, but that's probably due to your size." Wilson replied, removing the earpieces.

"Okay. Now that that's out of the way I'm going to bed. All the guest stuff is in its usual spot." House eased off the table.

"Folded in the closet where I left it last time." Wilson smirked down at him.

House shrugged. "You're the only one who use it, you should be the one to put it away."

"If you need something wake me up, okay?"

"Sure thing Mom." House rolled his eyes and limped into his room.

Wilson sighed in mock exasperation and went to retrieve the extra sheets and blankets from the hallway closet. They were folded neatly, just as he'd left them.

'You won't be able to sleep.' His inner voice chided as he spread the bedding across the couch. 'You'll be too worried.'

"Gotta try." He said aloud, plopping down.

A half hour later found him fast asleep.

-

Wilson awoke to a strange scream. He remained disoriented for a few moments before remembering where he had slept and why he was there. Gray daylight trickled around House's curtains, giving him a rough estimate of the time.

"House?" He called, unsure if the noise has been a by-product of the dissipating nightmare he'd had.

"Damn it Wilson, get in here!" The cry floated weakly down the hall.

Wilson jumped to his feet and nearly sprinted down the hall. He grabbed the doorknob to House's bedroom, but it wouldn't turn.

"Did you lock this?" He demanded.

"If I say 'No', will you believe me?"

"I can't believe you locked me out!"

"I didn't want you to look in on me at night." House grumbled from behind the door.

"Well unlock it!"

"Um…I can't."

"_Why_?" Wilson placed a hand to his head. First thing in the morning and he was already getting a major headache.

"I can't get out of bed. That's why I called you in the first place."

Wilson's heart thumped a little harder at this. "Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so, I just can't get out of bed."

"Then how am I supposed to help you?" He demanded.

"There's a key ring in the utility drawer." House said. "There should be a key for my door on it."

"Just hang on, I'll get it." Wilson had to restrain himself from running into the kitchen and blindly thrusting his hand into the wrong drawer, likely impaling himself on something. After a few moments of searching he located the ring. Thankfully it only had a few keys on it.

"Why did you think I'd be looking in on you?" Wilson asked as tried the first key.

"I figured you'd get worried in the middle of the night and need to see I was still alive."

"I actually slept all night." Wilson replaced the useless key with the next one. "I wouldn't have come in on you in the middle of the night without your permission."

"It might have been useful to know that _last _night."

"This one works!" Wilson quickly unlocked the door.

The sight of a very tiny Greg House met him as he opened the door. The doctor was a good deal smaller than he'd been yesterday, and looked quite a bit more scared. He seemed to be no bigger than a large doll. Wilson approached him slowly.

"House?" He could feel the blood draining from his face.

House gulped a little but said nothing. God, Wilson seemed huge!

Wilson couldn't tell if House was still wearing the clothes he'd gone to bed with but doubted it highly. The little doctor was leaning back against his pillow, draped in a corner of the sheet. He was perhaps half the size he'd been yesterday, making him little more than a foot and a half tall. Slowly, Wilson lowered himself onto the bed. He didn't dare risk jarring House with quick movement. He leaned down, trying to achieve a semblance of a level eye line. House shifted uneasily at this and leaned farther back.

"How do you feel?" He asked softly. His normal volume could very possibly deafen his friend in this state.

"Ironically, I still feel fine." House murmured. "You'd think I'd feel like crap after losing so much body mass."

"We have to get you back to the hospital." Wilson bit his lip.

'I could have forced him to stay there in the first place.'

House seemingly read Wilson's thought. "Stop it. Unless you're the one who slipped me those pills you're not allowed to feel guilty about this."

"I don't feel-"

"Please, your eyes are the size of bowling balls, I can see exactly how you feel." House scoffed.

Wilson sighed. "I should have made you stay at the hospital."

"I don't care how much bigger than me you are, you can't _make _me do anything." House replied, and paused. "Well…not without getting the hell kicked out of your shins."

"I could have taped you into that box." Wilson smiled slightly.

"You try anything like that and I'll pull some serious leprechaun-style revenge." House got up and clutched the edge of the sheet to his chest, "You'll need to go shopping again."

"For what? You're too small for kid clothes." Wilson frowned. "Except maybe baby stuff. But even then the proportions would be all wrong."

"Don't knock proportions; they're the only thing saving my dignity." House peered down at himself behind the sheet.

Wilson rolled his eyes, guilt temporarily forgotten. "Just hang on a minute, maybe I can cobble something together."

He stood up, making the mattress wobble under House's feet. "Now I know how those extras in the Godzilla movie felt."

"Do you have any safety pins?" Wilson asked as he rummaged though the closet that held the guest bedding.

"Um, yeah, in the first aid kit."

"Why there?" Wilson grabbed a bit of linen.

"They came with the sewing kit." House shrugged.

"Of course." Wilson rolled his eyes and went to retrieve said kit.

House watched with growing amusement as Wilson gathered his supplies. "If you're planning on making anything more complicated than a toga, I'll stick with the sheet thanks. I've seen you try to repair a rip."

"Actually, I _was _thinking toga." Wilson replied, sitting back down.

"What?"

"Until I can buy something more suitable of course. It'll do in the meantime." Wilson unfolded the bit of cloth, which proved to be a small towel.

"How many times have you done this?" House asked casually as he dropped the sheet. No sense in being bashful.

"I belonged to a frat, you figure it out." Came the reply as Wilson draped him with the cloth. "Hold still."

"To-_ga_, to-_ga_, to-_ga_…" House chanted under his breath as Wilson set about pinning the cloth.

Wilson finished quickly, being careful not to impale House as he did so. "Okay, that should hold up for a while."

"Nice." House granted. "Although teal isn't my color."

"I'll remember that when I'm shopping." Wilson said dryly. He reached toward the doctor.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" House limped backwards a few steps.

"I was going to pick you up."

"Yeah that's not about to happen."

"How else are you going to get down?" Wilson asked.

"…Just don't drop me." House muttered after a moment. He seemed to be saying that quite a bit as of late.

Wilson didn't reply, but quickly wrapped his arms around House before the diagnostician could change his mind. House, now a bit too small for the toddler carry, found himself semi-cradled in Wilson's arms, his head resting on Wilson's shoulder.

"This is so undignified." He grumbled as Wilson took him into the kitchen.

"Being in an undignified position isn't going to kill you."

"You've never heard the expression 'Dying from shame'?"

"Yes, but usually from people who care about what people think of them." Wilson replied, gently placing House on the kitchen table. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"Yeah. Any chance of pancakes?"

"Not enough time." Wilson replied, getting a box of cereal off the shelf. "I've still got to get dressed."

"Hmph." House crossed his arms.

"Are you pouting?"

"I'm not pouting, I'm…contemplating."

"You _are _pouting." Wilson smiled slightly.

House rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the diagnosis. Can you just hurry up?"

"Chase was right, you know." Wilson said as he poured out the milk. "You are kind of cute like this."

"Oh God, not you too. Why does everyone come out to _me_?" House moaned.

Wilson smirked a little as he placed the bowl in front of House. "You can whine about it all you want, but that doesn't change the fact."

"It is not a _fact_."

"I think Chase might even have a little crush on you." Wilson teased.

"The only person at the Hospital who gets to be attracted to me is Cameron. Or Cuddy. Or Stacy." House said thoughtfully. "Or Stevie the gay intern."

"You shouldn't call him that."

"He calls _himself _that. Besides, nobody would think I'm sexy right now. I'm the size of a cabbage patch doll and wearing a bath towel for God's sake."

"No one except perhaps a person with a shrinking fetish." Wilson pointed out. "Or a towel fetish."

"Eww. You're sick Wilson."

"I didn't say me. _Some _people think that's alluring." Wilson replied.

"That's weird. I'll stick to normal porn, thanks." House said, picking up the unwieldy spoon. He took a bite and grimaced. "Raisin bran?"

"It's good for you."

"Thanks a bunch, Mom." He replied sarcastically.

"I'm going to get ready. If you need _anything _just wait for me, okay?" Wilson said.

House rolled his eyes. "Just get ready. If I stroke out while you're blow drying your hair, I'll let you know."

He'd meant it in jest of course, but the comment made Wilson's eyes get that dark look again. Not _quite _tears, but not too far from them.

"Forget I said that." House said quickly.

"I'm going to get ready." Wilson mumbled and disappeared into the washroom.

"Crap."

-

"Oh, c'mon!"

"No. It's not safe."

"You let me ride up front yesterday." House glared up at his friend.

"Yeah, I didn't want you up there then either." Wilson replied as he placed House in the booster seat that was strapped into the backseat. "Just consider yourself lucky I don't have a real baby seat."

"Why do you even have this? You don't have any kid relatives!" House protested.

"No, but Julie did."

"This is it. I've hit rock-bottom on the humiliation scale." House grumbled as Wilson buckled him in. He immediately tried to undo it, but his tiny hands couldn't manage the snaps. "I'm going to get you for this."

"Be good and I'll get you a Happy Meal for lunch." Wilson laughed.

"I. Hate. My. Life." House growled though clenched teeth. Wilson was going to pay.

-

To Be Continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Getting More like Fiction Each Day

Chapter Five

By GirlX2

-

Wilson was trying his best not to stare at House in the rearview mirror. House had already caught him at this and was pointedly looking out the window, arms crossed. He was no longer seething about being put back there, but he was a long way from forgiveness. Sighing, the Oncologist turned his attention back toward the road.

Cute/annoyed House aside, he was getting very worried. It had been bad enough yesterday, coming over and finding House had been minified, but this was far worse. What if it just kept going? How long until House _had _to be carried everywhere? How long until he was no longer loud enough to be heard? How long until-

'It can't just keep going.' Wilson cut off the morbid train of thought. If this continued in the same manner it would only be a matter of days until House either got too small to be seen, or just shrank down to nothing. Neither of those were prospects that Wilson wanted to contemplate.

The only bright spot seemed to be a hopeful sounding voicemail that Foreman had left them in the middle of the night. He hadn't wanted to elaborate on the machine, but said they'd found something that could potentially help.

Wilson snuck another glance at House. Anything they could do to stop this _had _to be done, and the sooner the better.

-

This time around they were able to sneak House onto the floor with considerably less drama. Wilson wrapped House in his jacket, and House buried his face in Wilson's shirt any time anyone came close. They'd almost made it back to Wilson's office when Cuddy accosted them.

"Wilson have you spoken to House?" She demanded, stalking towards him.

"Oh crap." House muttered and tried to disappear into the jacket.

Wilson squirmed uncomfortably under Cuddy's glare. "I went over there to check on him this morning. He's really sick."

Cuddy looked like she had something smarmy to say, but then she spotted the jacketed figure. "Who's this?"

"Umm, my nephew." Wilson lied pathetically. "He's really shy around new people."

"You shouldn't cover a baby's face Wilson, its not…" Cuddy trailed off as she pushed the jacket back, revealing a familiar head of graying brown hair.

"Um…Goo?" House said.

The blood drained from Cuddy's face. "What the hell-"

Wilson grabbed her arm with his free hand and hustled her into his office.

"I can explain-"

"No he can't." House cut him off.

"What the HELL happened to you?!" Cuddy shrieked.

"If we knew that I'd have cured it already." House replied.

Cuddy shifted her wide-eyed stare to Wilson. "Well?!"

Wilson sighed. "This isn't going to make much sense…"

-

After explaining to her what had happened thus far, Cuddy had gone back to her own office to lie down and absorb what had happened.

"I think she took that pretty well."

"She took one of your Vicodin and said she was going to have a drink." Wilson said.

"At least she didn't faint." House shrugged.

"Your team is on their way." Wilson changed the subject.

"Did you tell them?"

"I told them it had escalated."

"Deescalated actually." House smirked.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Cameron said they had some results on the pills that could be helpful, but we're going to have to run more tests."

"Well now that Cuddy knows I'm sure she'll let me have a full run of the equipment." House replied flatly.

"She probably will." Wilson said. "This _is _an emergency."

"She's just upset I can't do clinic duty." House said. His good leg was swinging liberally over the edge of Wilson's desk. "And if it weren't for the amount of shock involved I bet she'd start me back on it anyway."

There was a timid knock at Wilson's door.

"Dr. Wilson?" An equally timid Cameron called.

Wilson opened the door. "Sorry, but I have to keep it locked. I don't want anyone to accidentally see House."

The Ducklings filed in quietly. Chase spotted House and failed to repress his gasp of surprise. Cameron's hand flew to her mouth. Foreman looked the least shocked.

"This is consistent with our theory." He said slowly.

"Then do tell."

-

The Ducklings had spent all day and most of the night doing a workup on the pills. They'd had to do most of the leg work themselves, as they didn't want anything leaked about House's condition. Chase had actually had the first breakthrough.

"I did a lab-rat test. It lost fifty percent of its body mass during a sleep cycle." He said. "I've never seen anything like it."

"How much did you give it?"

"The equivalent to one dose."

"And then what?"

"Nothing happened during the next sleep cycle."

"I took three doses." House mulled this over. "Which means that tonight could be the last reduction I go though."

It was hard not to see the relieved expression filter onto Wilson's face. House tried his best to ignore it anyway.

"We took some reading while it was going on." Foreman said. "It looks like the reduction is caused by a loss of calcium, nitrogen, and phosphorus."

"The building blocks of the body." House muttered. "Only instead of knocking them over like normal tantrumy radiation, these things are carefully de-stacking the blocks. Interesting."

"So if we do some injections of those it should stop you from getting any smaller." Wilson said.

"We think so." Foreman agreed.

"Yeah, except we're not going to." House said.

"What?" This rang out from every person in the room.

"If we stop it before tonight, you guys can't see exactly what's going on. Ergo, we couldn't reverse it."

"Reverse it?" Foreman repeated, now looking at his boss in total surprise. "House, you can't actually expect to-"

"It's the age of medical miracals. Why can't we cure the incredible shrinking man?" House replied nonchalantly. "After all, what's the worst that could happen?"

"You could wind up the size of an action figure." Chase looked equally amazed. "You're only a foot and a half tall now."

"Wrong. I'm eighteen and a half inches." House fired back.

"If you don't try to stem the process you're risking winding up even smaller that that permanently." Cameron said. "We don't even know if any reversal treatments would work."

"I got that, thanks." House replied. "I'd rather at least _try _to get back to normal."

"I won't let you." Wilson blurted. "It's not worth the risk."

Now it was House's turn to look surprised. "We've been over this. You can't _make _me do anything."

"I have power of attorney if you're not in sound mind. I think this clearly qualifies."

"Again, I'm just smaller. Not dumber or insane. And unless you're planning on dragging me into court, you've got no legal backup, Boy-Wonder." House said.

"I don't care. I-I'll restrain you myself, if I have to." But the conviction had left Wilson's voice.

"Wilson." House placed his hand on Wilson's wrist. "I know what I'm risking."

"This isn't some case you can walk away from when you're finished putting the pieces together." Wilson said quietly.

"Yeah, I know." The sarcasm has vanished from House's voice. Wilson had that damn look in his eyes again.

The Ducklings, seemingly forgotten, tried not to squirm uncomfortably at the scene. House showing emotion (even this little of it) was rapidly becoming stranger than his size. Even Cameron looked uneasy.

Finally, Wilson nodded. "If you're doing this, I'm staying with you the whole time."

"Gee thanks Mom." House had become sarcastic again. The Ducklings visibly relaxed; this was familiar territory. "Well, someone tell Cuddy to clear out a room with a TV. I'm sleeping over."

-

Cuddy kept House's condition under wraps while she secured everything his team needed for their observation. It had taken most of the day. Now she was going to have a final word with House before she left for the night. She quietly unlocked the door to his room. House was sitting in the narrow, railed hospital bed. Wilson was seated in a chair next to it.

"Decided my appearance isn't the result of mixing vodka shots last night?" House leered as Cuddy approached him. He was wearing some remarkably well made doll clothes that Cameron had picked up.

"I hope you've considered this very carefully House. This could end very badly."

"As could this conversation." House replied, annoyed.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "The only reason I'm siding with your decision is because I believe you've got a _chance _of reversing this thing."

"Hear that Wilson? Even Cuddy thinks I'm right." House smirked.

Wilson sighed. "I'm going to get something to eat."

"Get me a Ruben."

"No pickles." Wilson replied as he left the room.

"Have you bought your own lunch since you've worked here?" Cuddy asked.

"Only when Wilson got sick last year."

"Right. I'll see you in the morning. And don't think you're getting out of clinic duty because of this. As soon as you're back to normal you're back in there." Cuddy headed for the door.

"What about time off for mental trauma?" House called as she left.

"You get time off for this when I get time off for working with you." She replied and left.

House shrugged. "I just have to work harder on driving everybody crazy then."

-

Wilson watched as the Ducklings covered House in wires, suction cups, and various other mechanical apparatus. They would need access to almost all his biometric data during the night to even have a hope of seeing how to reverse the process.

"I feel like that alien in the Spielberg movie." House muttered as they finished up.

"You mean ET?" Cameron asked. House shrugged.

You've actually seen ET?" Wilson asked in disbelief.

House shrugged again. "Stacy made me watch it. Way too sappy. That kid should have been caught when he was on the bike. I mean, there were _how _many secret services guys chasing him in squad cars?"

"I'll remember that when the government comes after you." Wilson replied dryly.

House rolled his eyes "Great."

"Okay, that should do it." Foreman said. "We'll be in and out all night of course, but this will measure anything-"

"Yeah, yeah, we all went to medical school." House cut him off annoyed. "Everyone here knows what these things do. Unless one of you faked your diploma."

The Ducklings exchanged glances.

"If I have to keep reminding you three that I'm still me, just in travel size, it's going to get very ugly in here." House growled.

"Okay then." Chase backed toward the door. "We'll see you a little later."

The three of them all but fled the room.

"They're walking on eggshells." House grumbled.

"They don't want to upset you." Wilson said

"They never cared before, they shouldn't care now." He replied. "_You're _acting normal, after all."

"As normal as the situation permits anyway."

A few minutes of silence passed.

"Look, I'm going to try and sleep." House finally said.

"You want me to leave?" Wilson asked.

"You can come back later if you have to, but I can't fall asleep with you watching me." House replied. "It's _creepy_."

"Yeah, that's what's creepy about this situation." Wilson got up. "I'm going to ask one last time-"

"The answer is still no." House replied. He reclined onto the pillow, eyes closed.

Wilson nodded. "Alright."

House listened as the door opened and shut. A small smile played across his face. For the first time since this whole thing had started he was actually alone. Sure he was hooked up to about a dozen machines, and should he so much as cough they would go off and summon his entire staff, but for the moment he had peace.

It was then he was finally able to sleep.

-

Wilson didn't come back to the room for almost an hour. The Ducklings checked in on House every twenty minutes or so, but so far nothing had changed.

"We never considered that it may just stop on its own." Foreman said.

Wilson shrugged, having no reply. He opened the door quietly, although House was a deep sleeper. He lay still in the bed, the same size as earlier. Wilson sat down.

'If House wakes up and nothing has changed he'll think we gave him the injections after all.' He frowned slightly. What would they do then?

Wilson was still contemplating this as he drifted off.

-

Wilson woke to someone shaking him.

"Dr. Wilson?"

"Hm?" He inquired sleepily. The face of Robert Chase registered.

"It's morning."

The muzzy feelings cleared up frighteningly fast. Wilson's eyes snapped to the bed.

It was empty.

"Where is he?"

"It's alright, he's with Cameron and Forman." Chase assured him. "He wanted to let you catch up on your sleep."

"Sure." Wilson muttered. "More like he wanted me to not freak out when I woke up."

"You said it, not me." Chase held up one hand. "He's back in his office."

"And?"

Chase gave a small, unhappy nod. "It took longer to get started than we thought, but it did start."

Wilson didn't ask him to elaborate. He didn't _want _him to elaborate. He stood up quickly and went for the door.

"We got some useful data." Chase added, stopping him. "With a little trial and error we may be able to fix this."

Wilson opened the door. " 'May' is very good. 'Definitely' would be better."

Chase was unable to summon a reply as Wilson left.

-

To Be Continued...


	6. Chapter 6

'Getting More Like Fiction Each Day' Chapter Six

By GirlX2

All standard disclaimers apply, yadda yadda yadda.

-  
Thankfully Wilson didn't run into anyone as he hurried upstairs. He was fairly disheveled from sleeping most of the night in that chair, and didn't look at all like himself. He made it to the administrative floor without seeing anyone.

Cuddy was standing outside of House's office. Wilson straightened his tie, trying to put up a semblance of his usual neatness.

"Good morning." Cuddy tactfully ignored his appearance.

"Morning." He echoed. "How is he?"

"I haven't spoken to him yet. Foreman and Cameron are filling him in on the data they recovered last night."

"Chase said they might be able to reverse it."

Cuddy nodded. "From what they've told me it's possible."

"Probable though?"

Cuddy didn't reply.

Wilson opened the door and stepped inside. Foreman and Cameron were standing with their backs to him, bent over the desk. Cameron turned to him.

"Dr. Wilson! We…we didn't think you'd be up this early." She looked strangely guilty.

"Wilson's a morning person." House's voice emerged from behind her. "Always has been. If you'd listened to me earlier you'd know that."

Forman stepped closer to the Oncologist. He was holding a sheaf of papers. "You'll want to see these. It's some pretty amazing stuff."

Wilson nodded. "Could I have a minute with him?"

Foreman nodded. "We've got to run some numbers anyway."

Cameron looked like she wanted to protest. Foreman shook his head. She sighed, and stepped aside.

Wilson had, of course, known the measurements long beforehand. He'd gone over the figures in his head countless times since discovering how the strange syndrome was progressing. He hadn't been able to physically picture it, no matter how hard he'd tried (or tried not to). But now he was literally staring it in the face.

House was just over nine inches high.

It was all Wilson could do not to gape slack-jawed at his friend. He didn't notice as Cameron and Foreman filed out. He was to busy simply staring. The idea of a human that small was laughable. Insane.

"If you're going to spend the day ogling me I'm going to put on something more flattering." House said sarcastically. He was standing on his desk, leaning on a section of what had once been a chopstick. Now he was clothed in what appeared to be 'Ken Doll' style clothes. They were obviously too big (House was practically swimming in them), but were actual cloth, and fairly comfortable.

Wilson lowered himself into the desk chair, not taking his eyes off House. "This…this is unbelievable."

"No, what's unbelievable is that you're still wearing that God-awful tie." House walked towards him, giving a wide berth to the various toys and papers that littered his desk. "Have you gone home at all?"

Wilson shook his head.

"That explains a lot." House smirked. "I haven't seen you look this bad since we ate at that roadside chimmy chonga stand."

"Okay House, not the time." Wilson put a hand to his forehead.

"Isn't laughter the best medicine?" House pressed snarkily. "That's what you're always telling the cancer kids."

"House…" Wilson said in a warning tone. Why was House goading him?

"As a matter of fact, that's what you told me when your script permit got revoked and my vicodin ran o-"

"House!" Wilson slammed his hand into the table. A perfectly normal response to House's perfectly normal behavior in a perfectly abnormal situation.

He only narrowly missed crushing the tiny doctor. House regarded the hand soberly.

Wilson stared in horror at what he'd almost done. "Oh my God-"

"It worked!" House broke out gleefully.

"_What_?"

"I've successfully woken you up." House grinned malevolently. "You had joined the camp of people who are treating me like I'm actually a doll. All I need to do was annoy you back to reality."

"You _tried _to get me to kill you?!" Wilson shrieked.

"Not kill me." House shrugged. "But get annoyed with me, yeah. I have yet to bring any of the Ducklings over."

"I don't believe this." Wilson moaned and buried his face in his hands. Only House would try something so foolish, yet be correct about it working.

"Glad you're back. Did Chase tell you what they found?"

"He said it _might _be curable." Wilson looked at him wearily. "But that was all."

"Well apparently I'm housing some cutting edge technology." House said with a touch of pride. "Real 'on the threshold of medicine' type stuff. Chase could only fine three articles on the internet about it."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about radioactive medicine."

"There's nothing new about that, we've been using radiation treatments for almost-"

"Not like this." House cut him off. "The radiation is what's triggering the chemical loss while at the same time not killing me. No chemo aftereffects, nothing."

"That's impossible."

"Yep. Yet here I am."

"Any idea why it only happened while you were sleeping?" Wilson tried to rationalize what House was saying.

"I've got a few plausible theories concerning biorhythms and sleep cycles, but nothing concrete. Like I said, this is cutting edge stuff."

"Okay, then how are you planning to cure it?" Wilson took the bait.

"Simple. More radiation."

Wilson gave him a strange look. "I thought the radiation shrunk you to begin with."

"The _pills _shrunk me, the radioactive element just got them going. Now that they're out of my system we should be able to reverse it by _injecting _calcium nitrogen and phosphorus with low-level radiation."

"How low?" Wilson asked.

"About the same as an X-Ray. Simple." House shrugged.

"Simple, yet insane."

"I know, it's awesome. The only question left is where did those pills come from?"

"Nobody here, obviously. It sounds like you somehow got a hold of the newest James Bond item." Wilson replied.

House stopped cold.

Wilson regarded him for a moment. "What is it?"

"Remember last week when you were on clinic duty and I pulled you off the army grunt for a consult?"

"If by 'consult' you mean 'getaway excuse', then yeah."

"What was he there for?"

"He had a cold. Said he was on leave and didn't want to go back to the base."

"I left my jacket in the room." House said quietly. "My pills too."

"You never leave your pills anywhere."

"Usually no. But it was hot that day, and I had a full vial in my pants pocket."

"That's why you didn't get to these pills until the other day." Wilson said slowly. "But why switch your vicodin for these things?"

House shrugged. "Maybe the government wanted to see if a civilian doctor could cure it. Maybe the kid didn't even know what they did, just was told by his supers to pass them off at the hospital."

"And it's impossible to prove." Wilson murmured.

"If the government is behind this they're probably watching my place. They probably know exactly what's happening without even seeing me up close." House said darkly.

"Okay, now you're getting paranoid."

"If I'm right, I have every right to be paranoid."

"Well, barring a group of soldiers coming to kidnap you, can you just concentrate on the matter at hand?"

"Hell yes. I want to get back to normal so I can kick some government ass."

"Great."

-

"We're going to run some trials on the rats first before we move on." Cameron told them. All six of the doctors (including Cuddy) were gathered in his office now, with House and Wilson in the center. House was sitting on top of his Gameboy, which proved to be a fine bench, if no longer a playable option for the doctor.

"It'll take a little longer that way, but it's a lot safer for House." Chase said.

"Safety first." House replied. "The question is how does Cuddy secure time off for me _and _Wilson?"

"What?" Cuddy cut in.

"Well I can't stay here and I can't be at home by myself." House shrugged. "So Wilson will stay with me."

"I…yeah." Wilson nodded. Of course he'd stay. How could he not?

"So, think the hospital can manage without our brilliant contributions?"

"I can always tell the staff you two ran off to Vegas." Cuddy said dryly. House gave her a disinterested look.

"It won't be a problem." She shrugged. "Not for a week or so anyway."

"It shouldn't take us that long to process and test the lab rats. Hopefully." Chase said.

"You better watch those things like a hawk." House thumped his makeshift cane on the desk. "If any go missing I want to know."

"Well, of course." Foreman looked a little confused at his sudden insistence.

"I think the government may have produced those pills." House clarified. "Some kind of secret weapon, or spy aid."

"What, and slipped them to you?" Chase sounded disbelieving.

"He's got a _theory_." Wilson muttered.

"It's not important at the moment." House shrugged. "I can work on tracking the bastards down after I'm back to normal."

"That would indicate you've been normal at some point." Cuddy smirked at him.

"You know from down here your cleavage looks-"

"I'm going to get the rats." Foreman cut him off loudly.

"Yeah, good idea." Chase jumped in. He desperately wanted to leave the room. It was simply getting too weird.

Cameron watched as the others left. She pulled a scrap of paper from her purse and handed it to Wilson.  
"You might want to stop by this place." She told him quietly before heading out the door.

'The Doll House.' Wilson read silently. It was an ad for a miniature shop.

"I'm going to tell your secretary to reschedule your appointments for this week." Cuddy told Wilson and made for the door herself.

"Thanks." Wilson tried to sound pleased. He hated having to bump his patient's appointments.

"Well, now that everything is taken care of around here, I'm going home." House announced after Cuddy left. He looked expectantly at Wilson.

"What?"

"You're going to have to pick me up." House said in his 'well-duh' tone.

"Oh! Right." Wilson felt blood creep into his cheeks. His hand wavered hesitantly in the air.

"For the love of God, do I have to walk into your hand?" House grumbled, limping forward. "I'm tiny and crippled, don't make me work for this."

"Okay, okay." Wilson gently curled his fingers around House's midsection, the hesitation gone from his movements. House seemed impossibly light, even given his size. Wilson could feel his heart beating quickly though the thin material of the doll shirt. After taking a moments deliberation he deposited House into the top pocket of his lab coat.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Wilson (with some difficulty) addressed his own chest.

"That box thing is starting to look good." House stood up, wobbling on the uneven seam at the bottom of the pocket. He tried to steady himself with the makeshift cane.

"This is the safest way." Wilson replied. "Now sit down and be quiet."

"I'm going to get you for this Wilson. You'll never eat your own lunch again."

"Do I eat it now?" Wilson rolled his eyes. "C'mon, sit down."

House crossed his arms over the pouch's lip. He clearly had no intention of budging.

"Alright then." Wilson shrugged. Very gently, he pushed down on House's head with one finger, forcing him into a sitting position.

"Ow!" House shouted. He wasn't going to take this without making Wilson feel like a dick in the process. "You've crushed my vertebra. I hope you're happy."

"Ecstatic." Wilson said dryly and exited into the hallway.

House crossed his arms again, seething. If nothing else, he would get back to normal size simply to get revenge on Wilson. Had the now taller doctor seen him the word 'pouting' would have crossed his mind again.

Wilson had a few things to attend to before he left, including giving his secretary a better explanation of his coming absence than Cuddy had. House, with no diversions readily available, quickly grew bored. He tried to focus on the laughable lie Wilson was telling his secretary, but that soon grew tedious. He leaned back, trying to get more comfortable.

The loud beat of Wilson's heart momentarily startled him.

'Of course it's loud, you're right next to his chest.' House thought, annoyed with himself for being startled. After a moment he pressed him ear against the cloth. If Wilson's heart was elevated it could indicate an attraction for his underling, thus providing House more materiel to torment him with later. The beat didn't seem to be elevated, though. It was maddeningly steady.

With nothing else to do House continued to listen. He couldn't make out anything abnormal. Not that he'd want to, of course. However much he despised the _average _idiot, a category into which Wilson sometimes fell, he didn't want anything to actually be wrong with Wilson.

'Who would I steal food from then?' House mused, smiling slightly.

With the previous days event's, and getting up at the ungodly hour of seven, it was no wonder that he dosed off while listening to the hypnotic beat.

Wilson peeked at the sleeping doctor several minutes later as he left the building. A grin spread across his face.

'Well, this drastically simplifies the next few hours.'

-

To Be Continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Getting More Like Fiction each day, Chapter Seven

By GirlX2

Thanks to all my reviews. You guys rock!

-

When House woke up he was lying flat on something soft and comfortable. He remembered listening to Wilson's heart, but nothing after that. He opened one eye slowly. The familiar walls of his apartment greeted him. He appeared to be on top of his piano.

'Okay, last time I checked the piano wasn't comfy.' House blinked in moderate surprise and took a closer look.

He was actually lying in a pine-framed bed, complete with mattress, green striped comforter, and throw pillows. A wide space had been cleared on the top of the piano to accommodate the foot long piece of furniture. His clothes, House noted, had been changed. He now wore a pair of jeans that fit, along with a tee shirt, and what appeared to be very tiny Nikes. He fowned pensivly at this. It meant that not only had Wilson seen him naked, he'd dressed him as well. That was getting a little too close for comfort.

"Wilson?" He called, standing up. There was no answer, but House could hear the shower running.

A grin spread across his face.

-

Wilson finished washing up fairly quickly. He had even skipped blow-drying his hair to ensure that House didn't wake up in his absence.

Unfortunately for Wilson (and even more so for his follicles) it was in vain. House was nowhere to be seen. The bedspread was rumpled, but other than that there was no trace of the doctor.

"House?" Wilson called, approaching the instrument slowly.

There was no answer. Wilson picked the bed up to check underneath, but House still didn't appear.

"Okay, real funny." Wilson muttered. "Now where are you?"

Still no answer.

"This is payback isn't it?" Wilson asked the air. He knew House couldn't have gone too far; he was probably still on the piano. Had to still be there. He couldn't have gotten down.

With a put-upon sigh Wilson began to shift through the various piles of junk that had accumulated on the piano. Sorting meticulously though the old vicodin scrips, empty pill bottles, and assorted clutter still didn't cause House to appear.

"This isn't funny anymore." Wilson voice had a slight edge to it. "I'm sorry about whatever pissed you off, okay?"

Still nothing.

Panic began to flutter in the Oncologist's stomach. Slowly, he dropped to his knees and checked under the piano. It was devoid of any presence.

"House!" He swallowed, trying to force the lump in his throat back down. "I swear to God if you don't come out right this minute I'm going to call Cameron and let _her _deal with you until this is over!"

Wilson's heart pounding in his ears was the only sound. He gulped and sat on the piano bench. Something was horribly wrong.

'Okay, think like House, think like House…' He pressed a hand to his forehead. 'I'm a vindictive misanthrope who wants revenge against my best friend…Not helping. I've managed to lose my best friend somewhere in his own home.'

Tears began to sting the back of his eyes. He listened for anything, the tiniest indication that House had revealed himself and heard nothing…

…Scratch that.

A small sound was humming rhythmically at the edge of hearing. He closed his eyes concentrating, trying to hone in on the noise. He leaned forward and it grew louder.

The piano. Something inside it was vibrating.

Wilson threw the lid open.

"Ow ow ow ow…" House said through gritted teeth. He was sprawled across the piano wires and blocks. Somehow his bad leg had gotten caught up in them.

"Jesus." Wilson quickly detangled him. "How did this happen?"

"Wanted…to scare you." House lay flat in Wilson's hands, panting from his efforts to free himself.

"Well it worked." Wilson replied harshly. "Why didn't you answer me?"

"I _did_." House grimaced as he sat up. "My voice couldn't carry though the wood."

This took some of the wind out of Wilson's sails. "Oh."

"Ow." House said a final time and began massaging his thigh. "That was _so _not worth it."

"Remember that the next time you try and give me a heart attack." Wilson said stiffly.

"I wasn't planning on letting it go for that long." House replied. Wilson saw that this was as close as he'd get to a real apology. Sighing, he deposited House on the doll bed.

"Where did this thing come from anyway? You have a Barbie collection I don't know about?"

"I stopped at a miniature shop." Wilson said. "I got some more clothing and a few other things."

"Thanks." This was sotto but still intelligible.

"Yeah."

A few moments of silence passed.

"So…Is Genhop still on?"

-

"Okay, now _this _is getting weird."

"It's not my fault you can't see the screen."

"Yeah, but now I feel like I'm going to fall." House eyed the drop from Wilson's shoulder down to the couch cushion. The two had been trying to watch TV, but House had complained of a lousy view no matter where he sat, due to the table blocking him. Wilson had quickly grown tired of his whining and simply placed him onto his shoulder.

"Do you want to try somewhere else?"

"No," House said, perhaps a tad quicker than intended. "Just keep relatively still, Kong, and I'll be fine."

"Running out of clever giant jokes, eh?" Wilson grinned.

"Meh."

'Okay, maybe I exaggerated a _little _about how bad the view was.' House admitted to himself as the Oncologist's gaze turned back to the TV. Wilson's shoulder made for a surprisingly comfortable perch. House suddenly understood why Steve liked to sit with him in a similar position. He scooted a little closer to Wilson's neck.

"You need a haircut." He complained as a few stray hairs brushed him.

"So do you." Wilson retorted. "Not to mention a shave."

"I shave."

"You _trim_. Your razor is practically rusty. Quite a trick with stainless steel."

"Just because you can't grow facial hair is no reason to take it out on me."

Wilson didn't verbally reply to this so much as gently flick House's side.

"Hey!" House grabbed the offending strands of hair. "Do that again and I'm yanking."

"Yeah, that's really very threatening Ho-OW!" Wilson's scoff turned into a shriek as House tugged the hair experimentally. Wilson grabbed him quickly and held him at eye level.

"What are you, five years old?" He demanded, rubbing the sore spot with his free hand.

"You started it." House replied petulantly.

"I'll take that as a yes." Wilson rolled his eyes and placed House on the arm of the couch.

House sat quietly, arms crossed. He was actually a little upset at losing the spot on Wilson's shoulder. It had been comfortable, damnit. And warm too. There was some kind of draft in his place he'd only just noticed. It was far too cold. He scooted closer to Wilson's arm, trying to recapture the warmth.

After a while House found himself shivering. It was _freezing _in the apartment. But somehow Wilson didn't seem to noticed the cold at all.

'It might be the clothes he got for me.' House thought. The materiel _was _thin. It had been intended for dolls, not living beings.

'That can't just be it.' He thought, shivering miserably. His apartment just couldn't be _that _cold.

Wilson glanced down at him and did a double take. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just a little cold." He muttered.

Wilson placed a finger on his forehead. "You're _freezing_!"

House suddenly found his body engulfed in Wilson's warm hands.

"What is it? Do you feel sick?"

"No, just cold." House murmured, glad of the warmth.

Wilson frowned at this. "Were you cold at the hospital?"

"My office was a little cool." House replied. "Other than that, no."

"You were asleep before that. And in my pocket afterwards." Wilson murmured. He placed House back on the arm of the couch and laid a finger on his chest. "Your heartbeat isn't elevated very much."

"Isn't that a good thing?" House wrapped his arms around himself, annoyed at the loss of the warmth.

"Smaller animals generally have heartbeats much quicker than that. They need them to keep their energy up. To keep _warm_."

House nodded, understanding. "Humans aren't built this small for a reason. My body can't keep itself warm at this size without having a heart-attack. Plus, the vicodin is probably helping keep my heart-rate down."

Wilson picked him back up, trying to warm him. "Why didn't you say anything about being cold?"

"You know me. Hate to make a fuss." House shrugged as best he could (his arms were pinned to his sides).

"Uh-huh." One of Wilson's eyebrows was raised. "Well, you need to _tell _me when you need something!"

"Okay then. I'm hungry. What are we doing about lunch?"

This caught Wilson off guard. "Um…I don't care. We could order in."

"Mexican."

"Okay."

-

To Be Continued...


	8. Chapter 8

Getting More like Fiction each day, Chapter Eight

By GirlX2

-

House snuggled up to Wilson's neck as the Oncologist finished up his meal. They'd soon discovered that even with the small blankets Wilson had bought House had a hard time keeping warm. Skin-to-skin contact seemed to be the only solution, and House had vehemently protested about Wilson holding him after the first few minutes.

"Leave my hair alone House." Wilson said in a warning tone as House tried to push the strands out of his face.

"Relax, I'm not going to scalp you. Don't want to get blood on the couch."

Wilson finished the last bite of his enchilada. "You feel warmer?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

The two sat silently as General Hospital gave way to another program. House was leaning against Wilson's neck. His skin still smelled faintly of soap and shampoo from the brief shower. He idly traced a finger up and down the soft skin.

"Stop it. You're tickling me." Wilson murmured.

"You're ticklish?"

"Yea-NO!" Wilson cried out. He'd forgotten for a moment who was asking.

Too little too late. House immediately applied both hands to Wilson's neck and ran them lightly over his skin. Wilson, trying desperately not to laugh, snatched at him. House slipped to the back of his neck, intent on dragging this out as long as possible. Wilson, he decided, still needed to pay for the pocket incident.

The Oncologist, unable to perform the somewhat delicate maneuver of removing House from his person without injuring the tiny doctor, broke into hysterical laughter. He slid from the couch and onto the floor, giggling.

"Get you…For this!" He managed between gasps for air. Unable to fight back, he made a halfhearted swipe at the back of his neck.

House didn't fall for it. After a few more moments of torturing his friend he stepped back onto the couch cushion (now level with Wilson's shoulders).

"You…bastard." Wilson panted, still giggling slightly. House simply smirked at him.

"Okay," Wilson finally got his breath back. "I can see letting you be anywhere near my neck isn't going to work. Unless-"

House was once engulfed by Wilson's hands.

"-I teach you a lesson about personal space."

"That didn't sound gay at all."

Wilson ignored the crack. "You're just lucky you're too small for a proper ass-kicking."

"Okay, Butch." House grinned.

The smile abruptly disappeared as Wilson began to grin malevolently. Evil-grinning Wilson was never a good sign.

"What are you doing?" House asked slowly. He was beginning to feel nervous.

Wilson didn't reply, but ran a finger lightly down House's side. The shrunken doctor tried not to shiver. A moment later Wilson made his plan clear by increasing the rapidity of the movements. He was attempting to tickle House.

"Stop it!"

"Only if you promise to behave." Wilson replied in a near sing-song. He was clearly enjoying his revenge.

"Never!" House growled.

"Okay then." Wilson continued the maneuver.

"Oh…God…Alright!" House groaned, giving in. "I'll keep my hands to myself, or whatever the hell it is you want, just STOP IT!"

Wilson obliged. House lay flat across his hand, panting for breath and shaking from what Wilson assumed was held-in laughter.

House failed to hold in the shivering as the unwarranted feelings died away. From the expression of Wilson's face it was obvious that he didn't truly understand what sensations had formed at the skimming touch.

'Not going to deal with that right now. Be mad. Be annoyed. Be anything normal for Gods sake!' House pushed the feelings away.

"You are a Bastared, James Wilson." He growled, sounding convincingly angry.

"Possibly true. I never checked over my parent's marriage license thoroughly."

House struggled to his feet, and stepped off Wilson's hand and back onto the couch. "I'll just stay cold."

Wilson's grin vanished at this. "Hey, I didn't-"

"Sorry, this is where I reach my weirdness limit. We just had a _tickle _fight for God's sake."

"I'm not going to let you freeze."

"I won't freeze." House said curtly.

"House-" Wilson reached toward him with one hand.

"Don't touch me!"

This came off quite a bit harsher than Wilson expected. And if he'd not known better, he'd have thought there was a note of panic in the cry.

"Okay." He said softly. House did his best to ignore the man on the floor and concentrate on the television.

'What just happened?' Wilson wondered. House had seemed almost…scared.

-

There was very little talk between the two doctors for the rest of the day. Wilson sat on the opposite edge of the couch, trying not to worry over the occasional shivers the shrunken doctor experienced.

House was doing his best not to look at Wilson. He was still sporting the confused-puppy look. The younger man really seemed to have no idea why House had reacted as strongly as he did.

'Then I can just let is slide.' He thought, hours later. It was reasonable that if he'd been angry at Wilson for the earlier incident, the rage would have subsided by now.

"Wanna grab some beers?" He asked gruffly. Wilson, a bit surprised that he'd been spontaneously forgiven, nodded.

"Yeah." Wilson replied cautiously. "But I'm monitoring how much you drink. You could get alcohol poisoning way too easily at that size."

"You're worse than Cuddy." House scowled, waving the remark off.

Wilson quickly retrieved the beers (a bottle for him, a shot glass for House) and returned to the couch. House cackled gleefully at the sight of what was quite a lot of beer. Sweet, soothing, memory-erasing, sleep-inducing alcohol.

'Just was the shrunken cripple doctor ordered.' He grinned, drinking from the enormous glass.

Wilson, for the first time in hours, was able to relax. House was finally over whatever had spooked him. Things were back to a semblance of normality.

Except he still was shivering.

Wilson forced himself not to offer his hand. House seemed to be feeling better, but he didn't want a repeat of the earlier incident. If House got cold enough he would make the first move.

Another hour passed, this one in a relatively comfortable silence. Just two best friends, drinking, making fun of whatever poorly-plotted show came on the TV, all completely normal.

Wilson, finally succumbing to the influence of the alcohol and his own exhaustion, fell asleep on the couch. House, in his buzzed state, didn't notice right away.

"Jeeze Jimmy, I'm supposed to be the lightweight here." House mumbled, looking his friend over as he finally noticed. Wilson was stretched out across the couch, head bent slightly to the left. He seemed to be mired in REM sleep, eyes darting about under his closed lids.

House shivered again. The bed Wilson had bought was on his piano, an unreachable plateau. He couldn't afforded to get sick while in this state, and there was only one method of keeping warm at his disposal. Sighing, he slid off the arm of the couch and onto Wilson's leg. He used the bit of chopstick as a cane/walking stick as he made his way forward.

Wilson made a small noise as House walked across his stomach. The diagnostician froze. Wilson shifted slightly in his sleep but didn't open his eyes. House continued after a moment, finally stopping at Wilson's chest. The shirt Wilson was wearing was a tad loose, providing a little material for House to wrap himself in. He lay down, snuggling close to the collarbone.

'It's funny,' House thought as he listened to Wilson's heartbeat. 'I can't remember the last time I slept with someone. ACTUAL sleeping anyway.'

Wilson breathed deeply, his chest moving slowly under House.

House thought about the time he'd spent with Stacy. She had always curled up in his arms after they made love, sleeping to the tune of his heart and breath. Now, for the first time in his life, he was the one listening to the soothing white noise of the human body as he drifted off to sleep.

'Oh yeah, _this _isn't getting gay.' House thought. 'I'm just sleeping on top of my best friend.'

A best friend who apparently didn't have any idea that House wasn't ticklish in the least. Who didn't seem to notice that the shaking of his body hadn't been from silent laughter, but from shivers. Shivers not from cold, but from-

'Okay, that's enough!' House cut the thought off and curled into a tight ball. 'I'm not going to deal with this right now.'

He was, however, going to dream of those hands tonight.

-

To Be Continued...


	9. Chapter 9

Getting More Like Fiction each day, chapter Nine

By GirlX2

-

_It made sense at the time, but later Wilson couldn't have said why. _

_It wasn't House who had been the intended recipient of those pills; they had been meant to replace the small bottle of Zoloft he carried in his lab coat. They HAD taken the place of that bottle. Wilson had taken the ill-fated doses, and he had been the one to end up as a living doll._

_He vaguely remembered the scene on the couch as it replayed before him, even though the roles were switched. He was now the one to attack first, trying to exact revenge on House for some small infraction dealt to him during the course of the last few days. _

_This time, though, it didn't work. House didn't burst out laughing as Wilson had done. He merely scooped Wilson up with one hand and gazed at him intensely. The expression was more than a little scary._

_"House?" Wilson was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was small enough for House to hold. Literally, he was in the palm of House's hand. "Why are you looking at me like that?"_

_No answer except a decidedly Houselike smile. The older man slowly drew a finger down the length of Wilson's body._

'_I remember this.' Something whispered in the back of Wilson's mind, momentarily breaking the illusion. _

_House continued to rub his skin, going about it very slowly and deliberately. He carressed Wilson's chest, ribs, and moved lower. Wilson recognized the feeling that followed, and it didn't seem in the least bit strange. He groaned a little as House continued the torture, smiling fixedly._

_"Please…please stop…"_

_"Do you_ really _want me to stop?"_

_"…I don't know."_

_"Lets find out."_

-

Wilson's eyes flew open. For a moment he thought he was still in the dream, the weight of an impossibly large finger still on his chest. But it was far too light. He drew in a startled breath. House, still smaller than him, was curled up on his chest, sleeping.

'Just a dream.' He sunk back slightly. Of course it was House who had taken the pills. House had been on the receiving end of the stroking maneuver earlier, not the other way around.

'Stroking or tickling?' Wilson wondered. The distinction suddenly seemed very important.

'I would never…House was shaking from trying not to laugh, not being turned on!'

Still…it would explain a lot.

'I'm not attracted to House.' The conviction behind this thought left much to be desired.

'Is House ticklish?' He questioned his memory. Had anyone else asked, he would have instantly said 'no'.

'If you knew that, what exactly were you doing to him earlier?'

Wilson shut this question out of his mind almost as quickly as it came in. He slammed his eyes shut, trying to return to dreamless sleep.

But deep down a small part of him hoped for a return to the dream he'd awoken all too soon from.

-

House was the first one to wake up in the morning. He was reluctant to return to consiousnes. His leg was twinging, but not as badly as it should have. The heat readiating from Wilson had helped the injured mucle to relax. It was all House could do not to sigh contentedly and go back to sleep. He sat up slowly, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep.

'He outslept me. Hell has officially frozen over.' The Diagnosticion eyed the still-sleeping Wilson. Wilson, apparently having a good dream, was smiling slightly.

'Okay, can't have any of that.' House limped to Wilson's shoulder, preparing to reach over and forcibly pry one eye open.

The only problem was that Wilson's neck still had that compelling scent.

"Damn it." House grumbled quietly, inching closer. "This is only supposed to work on the harpies you marry and every nurse at PPTH. Not me."

Up close it was much easier to examin the intresting aspects of Wilson's face. The high cheekbones, long eyelashes, doe-eyes--everything House would have put onto an attractive woman presented itself.

'That's not a coincidence.' House realised with a bit of a start. 'It never was.'

'Huh. Well, that explaines a lot. Mutual attraction.'

The realization that he was attracted to his male best friend should have rocked House much more than it did. Then again, it wasn't as if he'd never hand an inkling about it before. He'd obviously noticed last night that something was severly off when Wilson was sort-of torturing him. It had been a kind of torture, just not in the expected manner...

'Well,' House thought wryly, 'I guess we're going to have a lot to talk about when Jimmy wakes up.'

The question of weather or not Wilson was attracted to him never entered his mind. It really was the only thing that made sense. Why else would the nicest guy at the hospital have become best friends with him and put up with so much abuse? Sure, he was good looking, but that only took you so far.

Boy-Wonder really was the perfect nickname for Wilson. He didn't look close to his almost forty-years of age. Asleep he looked even younger, and a good deal more peaceful. House resisted the urge to reach over and stroke Wilson's face as he slept. Insted he gave into the far stronger urge to kiss him.

He kissed Wilson's jaw-line softly. Wilson didn't wake up, but his eyelashes fluttered slightly and his smile got a little wider.

"I hope you're happy. I'll have to turn in my Girls Gone Wild fan-club card." House mourned quietly. "I won't be able to watch The Man Show without feeling guilty. I may as well buy a Lhasa apso and one of those stupid berets."

This speech was punctuated with more kisses. Wilson's eyes opened fully this time, slowly focusing on the Diagnostician.

"Hi." He said quietly.

House pulled back a little. "Hi."

"So…what was that about a Lhasa apso? Because you could use a dog." Wilson said after a moment.

"Shut-up Jimmy."

-

Cameron watched the security tape for what felt like the hundredth time. "I can't believe I'm actually seeing this."

"Because of what's happening, or because its happening to House?" Foreman replied.

"Well...both." Cameron shrugged. "Its weird. He just…dwindles."She popped the tape out of the VCR. "How are the rats coming?"

"Not bad, actually. Chase is reviewing the results with Cuddy now."Chase and Foreman had been monitoring the lab rats condition after administering three doses of the pills to them. They'd wound up about the size of carpenter ants. So far they'd managed to bring them back to about half scale.

"I just don't understand why the treatment is only working halfway." Foreman muttered. "And until we figure out why, House isn't going to get any treatment."

"We'll figure it out." Cameron said soothingly as the tape rewound.

"You're not going to find anything by watching that." Foreman said as he headed for the door.

"It couldn't hurt." She shrugged. "And I've already filled House's clinic duty hours today. All that's left is to wait for that last blood test to come back."

Foreman shrugged. "It's your life. Just don't spend it pinning after House."

Cameron rolled her eyes as the Neurologist left.

'Why do men think it's ALWAYS about physical attraction?' She stopped the cassette.

It was still rather amazing. Wilson sitting by House's bedside, and stroking his hair and the sides of his face as he slept. And House, still mired in sleep, but apparently enjoying it.

'Well, it's not about my physical attraction at any rate.' She grinned.

-

To be contined...


	10. Chapter 10

Getting More Like Fiction Each Day, Chapter Ten

By GirlX2

Standard disclaimers, I own nothing.

-

"You do realize that unless we cure this we can't consummate the relationship."

"Whoa there Wilson, I'm not ready to _consummate_ anything."

"Really."

"…Not until you get a better set of ties anyway. Those things could make Hugh Heffiner lose his hard-on."

Wilson cut into the stack of macadamia-nut pancakes on his plate. "Remind me again why I'm attracted to you."

"My fab-abs, I assume." House dropped a pinch of ground-up vicodin into his mouth and swallowed (They had to resort to this system of dosage).

"Yeah, this isn't too gay." Wilson muttered.

"Y'know, there's still plenty of stuff we can do." House waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"When you're better." Wilson pointed a forkful of pancake at him for emphasis. "I'm not going to risk injuring you just because you're horny."

"Speaking of curing, have we gotten any reports back from the Ducklings?"

"Foreman said they've managed to get the rats back to half their normal scale." Wilson said.

"That's…good." House didn't look pleased.

"What?"

"It appears they've devised a working treatment." House replied. "The only question now is why isn't it working completely?"

Wilson didn't respond. They both knew that some things weren't completely curable. Merely treatable.

"Even half scale would be better than this." He finally said.

House didn't look convinced. "I'm not going to take the treatment until we figure out why it's not working."

"What if that never happens? You're just going to stay this way for rest of your life?"

"After a few months-"

"Months!"

"-If we don't see any progress, I'll try what they've done to the rats." House continued as if Wilson hadn't spoken.

"House…you can't stay this way." Wilson almost whispered. "The cold alone-"

"I know." House cut him off. "Freezing for extended periods of time isn't going to do wonders for my health. That fact combined with the dangers of being tiny-"

"You could _die_."

Normally, House would have shrugged this statement off with a witty remark. But normal situations didn't involve his best friend suddenly becoming his love interest. This time Wilson really had started crying. Runnels of tears coursed slowly, but steadily, down his face.

"Jimmy, don't…"

"I'm not going to sit back and watch you die." Wilson said levelly. "If they haven't made any progress with this soon, you're taking the treatment as is."

"…Alright." House said after a moment. "But I won't wait too long."

Wilson nodded. "Alright."

House turned his attention back to his breakfast. He pointedly ignored the fact that Wilson was cleansing the tears from his cheeks.

-

"What did you do?!" Foreman could hear Cameron shouting all the way down the hall.

"I didn't _do_ anything!" Chase replied, sounding panicked. "It was like that when I came in."

Foreman quickly entered the lab. "What the hell's going on in here?!"

Carmon's cheeks were flushed. "Chase did something to the lab rat!"

"I did not, it was like that when I got here!" Chase gestured wildly to the cage.

"Okay kids, do you need a timeout?" Foreman grumbled as he peered into the cage.

The sight of a rat the size of a small dog sent him stumbling backwards.

"What the hell-"

"I didn't do anything." Chase repeated.

"How the hell did that rat get that big?" Foreman fired this at the Aussie anyway.

"_I don't know_." Chase ran a hand though his hair. "It got the same dose that the others did. They're still at half scale."

"Okay, so for some reason this rat not only grew, but somehow ended up at twice it's normal size?"

"Apparently." Cameron gave a slight sigh.

"That doesn't make sense." Foreman said.

"Because the rest of this situation does?" Cameron replied.

"House isn't going to like this." Chase murmured.

"House doesn't like anything." Foreman said. Cameron almost contradicted him, but caught herself. No need to tell the other fellows about her observations. At least, not yet.

"Now it's not just a problem of bringing him back. We've got to worry about overshooting it." Foreman continued. "How can one man get himself in trouble this complicated?"

"It's _House_." The other fellows chimed together.

"Good God," Foreman grumbled under his breath as he reached for the phone. "I'm actually wistful for when his Vicodin addiction was the biggest issue around here."

-

"You're sure it got the same dose as the other rats?" House questioned the speakerphone. He was standing on the couch's end table. Wilson was seated on the couch.

"Yeah, we even checked the surveillance tapes in case someone screwed up." Foreman sounded tired. "Nothing."

"Well this adds a whole new layer of intrigue to the puzzle." House's eyes were glinting. "I'd call it progress, wouldn't you?"

"No, I wouldn't." Foreman replied grimly. "There's just as much danger in overshooting as there is in leaving you the way you are."

"He's right." Wilson agreed. "If the cure ends up over stimulating your system your skeletal structure will collapse under its own weight."

"But I'll be really, really tall. That would be cool."

"Tall and _dead_."

"Fine, I'll continue to wait." House sighed. "Foreman, just try to figure out what the hell happened, okay?"

"Of course. We'll let you know if anything turns up."

"_When_ it turns up." House corrected him and jabbed the 'off' button with his chopstick-cane.

"That's just great." Wilson hung the phone up. "So not only do we have to worry about you freezing to death or getting crushed, we have to worry about the cure killing you too."

House shivered with exaggeration. "Speaking of which…"

"Jeeze." Wilson muttered, not unkindly. He carefully placed House onto his shoulder. "This is getting to be a regular habit."

"You'll miss it once I'm back to normal." House said smugly.

Wilson shrugged slightly, jarring him. "Maybe."

"C'mon, you know you'll miss it."

"I'll miss it when you're bothering me. If you do that now, I can just put you on a shelf and leave you there."

"That's domestic abuse. I'll get your ass thrown in jail faster than you can say Tritter. And you know what happens when cute guys get thrown in jail." House replied.

"I'm cute?" There was a touch of surprise in Wilson's voice.

"Er…no." House lied badly. "You're homely. You're the homeliest man in the entire oncology department, including Dr. Wolfington."

"Mm-hm."

-

"Did it get any extra food? Water?" Cameron threw out the last of her theories.

"No. Nothing." Foreman said wearily. "Everything was exactly the same."

Chase is silent for a few moments. "What about the dose?"

"It got the same dosage-"

"The exact same dose? From the same pill?"

This stopped the neurologist for a moment. "Actually, no. We tried to use one pill for all the doses, but it wasn't large enough. We had to use part of a new pill for him."

"Do we still have the other bit?" Chase began to look excited.

"Yeah." Foreman replied. "I'm not about to lose anything that important."

As he speaks he retrieves the pill bottle from his pocket. It's still two thirds full, with the halved pill rattling around on top.

"One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small." Cameron murmured. "And the ones that mother gives you don't do anything at all."

"Huh?" Chase missed the reference.

"Never mind."

"There might not be enough here to test and see if this particular pill does reverse the effects." Foreman said doubtfully. "And even if some of the pills reverse the process there's no way of knowing if House took one of them. We can't give him a new one or the radiation treatment before we know."

"We'll just have to wait." Cameron shrugged. "Same as before."

"Hurry up and wait. House's favorite game." Chase grumbled. He had hoped that his idea wouldn't lead to a dead-end quite so quickly. "If House had gotten one of these it should have worked by now. He's finished shrinking."

"If it works like the rats, it'll begin reversing tonight. If not, we'll know he didn't get an...enlarging pill." Cameron swallowed over the word. It still didn't seem right to say such things. "Then, once we get the radiation treatment fixed we can start administering that."

"I can't believe we're in a situation where that sentence is logical." Chase replied.

"This whole situation is completely insane." Foreman said. "And that's my medical opinion."

-

To be Continued...


	11. Chapter 11

Author's note: _Goyim_ is Yiddish for 'gentile' or 'non-Jew'.  
-

"I'm sick of being cooped up in here. I wanna go somewhere."

"Like where, fraggle rock? That flower garden in Alice in Wonderland? I hear the museum of miniatures is very interesting."

"Ha ha. You're a freaking riot. No wonder the cancer kids thank you for devastating news."

"We can't go out, House. Not yet."

"Oh, you're worried about getting outed? Too late. You should have thought of that before you told me you blow-dried your hair."

"You know very well _that_ it's not that, and what do you mean 'too late'?"

"Weelllll, someone might have started a vicious rumor that the two of us were an item before we actually were an item."

"That would have been you."

"A guy can dream, can't he?" House grinned. "Besides, now it's true."

"I think my family suspected after I brought you to passover. For five years in a row." Wilson replied.

"Wow, you Jews really are a perceptive bunch. Except when it comes to directions in the desert."

The younger man sighed. "I'm not only gay, I'm in love with a _goyim_. Thank God my parents are liberal."

"Your parents love me."

"Despite all logic."

"Doesn't matter. If Jews really were that perceptive, you would have noticed that you were gay. Or possibly bi-sexual."

"Seems to have slipped by you to, Sherlock."

"Touché."

After a few minutes of silence House sighed discontentedly. Normally Wilson would have ignored it, but House was all of a quarter inch from his ear, and disproportionatly loud.

"_What_?"

"I still wanna go out."

"Tough."

"Well, we could do something fun without leaving the house. I know you've got talented hands. Seems like a waste not to use them." House tried.

"Let's see, how can I put this…no."

"Look, you're not going to hurt me. You spent ten years learning how to be gentle with patients, and that's on top of your natural caring tendencies." House reasoned.

"House, no. You're too little."

"Am not. You're just a wuss."

"Well, sure, if you're going to be mature about it." Wilson said dryly.

"I'll prove it."

"Oh?" Wilson was intrigued. "Fine. I'd like to see this."

He gently removed House from his shoulder and placed him on the coffee table.

'Damn, he called my bluff.' House eyed the various items on the table warily. There wasn't much to work with. There was a Stephen King novel Wilson was reading, a glass of water, and a bowl with some semi-atrophied popcorn in it.

Well, it was one of King's shorter books at any rate.

House grabbed the top of the book and dragged it slowly towards the bowl. Wilson cocked his head, slightly confused, but didn't say anything. He really did want to see how House intended to use a book to prove his size wasn't a barrier from naughty acts.

After a minute of struggling with the paperback House succeeded in dragging it most of the way across the table. He shot a triumphant look at Wilson, who was looking rather amused.

"Okay, I'll admit that was a pretty impressive display. But it doesn't really help to prove your point."

"My rippling muscles aren't turning you on?" House panted a little. Since when were books so freaking _heavy_?

"Well, I didn't say that." Wilson ran a finger lightly down House's back. House flapped a hand at him, waving him off.

"I'm fine."

"Of course you are." Wilson continued to stroke his back. House leaned into the palm of his hand after a few moments.

"Maybe I'm a little tired."

"Poor thing."

House concealed a grin as Jimmy picked him up in one hand and stroked him with the other.

'Ironic that the only way to get him to play into my hands was to get into his.'

-

"They don't appear to be coming out, sir, and it's already noon."

"He's still got his team working on the problem for him."

"We knew that was a possibility, sir. Do we use the contingency plan or just wait for Dr. House's team to proceed?"

"It's no good, they won't figure it out without his help. And that completely destroys the point of the whole thing. We'll have to go to Beta right away."

"Yes sir." There was the soft snick of military-issue boots snapping together and starting away.

"Private? Make sure that Dr. Wilson accompanies Dr. House. We're going to need him."

"Right sir."

-

House swallowed softly, trying to get rid of the nausea. He was once again on Wilson's shoulder, resting. He rubbed at his temple with one hand, a migraine setting in on top of his unstable stomach.

'If I'm getting sick on top of everything else, the universe really does have it in for me.'

It was then that he began to feel off-balance.

Wilson didn't notice anything was wrong until House tumbled off his shoulder. Only his quick reflexes saved the tiny doctor from smashing onto the hardwood floor.

"House!" The Oncologist cried out as he neatly caught him. House lay sprawled across his hands.

"I don't feel so good…" He muttered, eyes only half open. The apartment was going all swimmy. House closed his eyes. The motion was giving him a headache.

"Oh shit." Wilson sounded panicked. He stood up quickly, but fell back onto the couch at the same speed. "I can't..."

Even with his mind rapidly fogging over House recognized the symptoms. "Drugged. _Damnit_."

It only took a few moments for House to succomb and pass out. Wilson followed soon after.

-

It took a few minutes for the disorientation to subside after House woke up. The doctor groaned, trying to piece together what had happened. He and Jimmy had been drugged, somehow. Probably a toxin in the air. House had felt the effects first, obviously due to his size, but Wilson seemed to have succumbed to them rather quickly as well.

House cracked one eye open. He was no longer in his apartment. The room he was in now was distinctly medical, with all the hominess and charm of an operating room. Actually, it seemed to _be_ an operating room. There was a large mirror on one wall, as well as several blinking video cameras and a speaker. Someone was watching him. Wilson was nowhere to be seen.

He sat up slowly, nausea forming in the pit of his stomach. "I didn't think the government was this organized."

"Very perceptive Dr. House." A voice said from behind him. A tall silver-haired man was sitting on a stool in the corner, a lit cigarette between his fingers.

"Not really. I had most of this figured out yesterday." House said levelly. "Where's Wilson?"

"Dr. Wilson is safe." The man avoided answering the question. "For the moment."

This wasn't nearly good enough, but House knew perusing the issue wasn't going to help. "What do you want?"

"We want to see if the best diagnostician in America can figure out a cure for our little innovation." This answer comes far to easily. "Without letting your team do all the legwork."

'Ah.'

"So what, you kidnapped me so I could work it out on my own? That seems like a huge waste of taxpayer money."

"Perhaps." The man blew a smoke cloud at the table, engulfing House.

"You're not going to let me go even if I solve it." House replied after the smoke cleared. He didn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of coughing.

"We don't need to keep you." The man shrugged. "You are merely a baseline. The length of time it takes you to devise a cure will give us an idea of how other diagnosticians employed in the service of hostile nationalities will proceed."

"And if I refuse to go along with this you'll go Abu-Grave on Wilson." House growled. This was turning into a pattern. Volger and Tritter had also used Wilson as a way to get to him.

"Something like that." The man nodded at the mirror. The door next to it opened and two burly MPs drug a bound and gagged Wilson into the room. There wasn't a gun anywhere in sight, but House got the idea.

Wilson was obvious scared, but not terrified. He blinked rapidly at House and gave a brief shake of his head. So far he seemed to be unscathed.

So far didn't last very long.

The guard on the right administered a swift blow to Wilson's ribs, dropping the doctor to his knees. The other kicked him, sending him sprawling onto the concrete floor.

"Wilson!" House hollered. He turned back to the Smoking man. "Damnit I didn't even refuse yet!"

"You would have, and it would have wasted valuable time." The man replied nonchalantly. He waved the guards off. One of them untied the gag and partway undid Wilson's bonds. He would be able to free himself, once he got his breath back.

"Everything you need is already in this room, as well as the results of all the tests you've previously run." The man nodded at a file folder on the countertop. "If you begin working on anything besides a cure there will be worse consequences for your friend."

"If you lay another finger on Wilson-"

"You'll do what, exactly?"

House glared at him. "I'll find a way."

"Of course you will." The Smoking man exited the room, followed by the MPs.

"Shit. Wilson?" House leaned over the edge of the table to assess the damage.

Wilson was already wriggling out of his bonds. "I'm alright. They just knocked the wind out of me."

A moment later he stood up and hobbled over to the stool.

"You're not alright. How are your ribs?"

"Might be a fracture." Wilson winced as he gingerly touched his ribcage. "I heard what he said to you. We should start working."

"They're going to kill us either way." House muttered.

Wilson didn't say anything.

"Get the sphygmomanometer."

"It's not going to fit." Wilson reminded him.

"It's not for me, idiot, it's for you. I want to make sure you're okay."

"Sweet, but unnecessary." Wilson closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. "Got anything else?"

"Unless you're prepared to start administering the radiation treatment, no." House admitted.

Wilson opened one eye. "I thought you didn't want the treatment since it only works halfway."

"I don't but there doesn't seem to be a better option. Unless you want wingus and dingus to come back and beat you some more."

"I don't." Wilson shuddered. Waking up bound and gagged with those men had been terrifying, but it had only been made worse when he saw House was alone with the government agent. If that man had decided to do something to House, Wilson would have been powerless to save him. He knew House hated his overprotective nature, but now it was completly out of their hands.

"The Smoking man said everything you needed for a cure was in here." He reminded House.

"No, he said everything I _needed_ was here." House mulled this over.

"I don't see anything that could irradiate the chemicals properly." Wilson took a glance around the room. "That must not be what you're supposed to do to cure it."

"Great, so no only are those government guys going to kill us, we're back at square one for a cure." House grumbled. He shivered a moment later.

"Don't." He said as Wilson reached toward him. "They'll think we're using some kind of subversive communication. I'll be fine for a while."

Reluctantly, Wilson pulled his hand back. "Alright."

House turned from him and began to survey what the room contained. Perhaps there would be something that stood out from the rest of the equipment. Some minor clue…

'If this were a TV show, I'd spot an obvious sign right now.' House didn't see anything particularly exciting.

'Damnit. Betrayed again by Must See TV.'

-

To Be Continued…


	12. Chapter 12

Getting More Like Fiction Each Day, Chapter Twelve

By GirlX2

Standard disclaimers apply, I own nothing.

-

Somewhere far outside New Jersy, three figures crowded around a computer monitor.

"You're sure Dr. House is in there?" One of them asked.

"Both of them are, you punk. Look at the feed." A Second speaker replied.

"Jeeze, he's a freakin' action figure!" The First speaker exclaimed. "You're taping this, right?"

"Of course, but that doesn't solve the problem of helping the poor guys." A Third speaker piped up.

"What can we do? The Syndicate has got the whole place locked down, and the FBI isn't looking for them. They were only taken a few hours ago." Second speaker replied.

"Can't we like, tip off the guys at the hospital?" First speaker put in.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure a bunch of doctors are ready to bust their friends out of a Government warehouse." Second speaker snapped.

"You're not helping." Third speaker sighed. "And I don't think The Syndicate is planning on killing them. The file said 'Must Remain Active'."

"That's not good. They must have something else planned for those poor bastards." Second speaker said thoughtfully.

"My thoughts exactly." Third speaker said.

"So, what? We just sit back and watch?" First speaker snorted. "Not our style."

"I know, but there's nothing we can do for them right now. Maybe if they are let go we can contact them, try to get their whole story." Third speaker sounded unhappy about this. "I wish we _could _do something now."

"Maybe we can. Can you hack the intercom?" Second speaker directed this at First speaker.

"Yeah, of course."

"Then we might just be able to give these guys a clue." Second speaker said.

"Looks like they need it." Third speaker agreed.

"Bad." First speaker started to type.

-

House knew his body clock had been thrown off by the drugging. Wilson wasn't wearing his watch, and there wasn't a clock in sight. He'd been awake for about three hours, but had no idea of how long he'd been out. It was at least five o'clock, judging by when the drugging had approximately happened, and long before anyone would suspect they'd gone missing.

Wilson was shuffling through a stack of papers The Smoking Man had left them. "I don't see anything useful."

"That's why you're not a Diagnostician. Gimmie." House ordered. Wilson spread the papers on the metallic table.

After a few minutes House groaned in frustration. "This telemetry is useless! The machines aren't built to get readings from someone my size."

"There must be _something _useful."

"Nothing that we don't already know."

"**Don't look up. Keep talking**." A computer-automated voice issued from the speakers on the wall.

"What the-" Wilson began, jerking his head toward the sound.

"This sucks." House said, a bit louder than necessary. "Wilson, we're dead. May as well lie down now."

Wilson looked back down, quickly catching on. "Don't think like that. We'll find something."

"**Whatever you do, keep up the appearance of working. If you give up they'll terminate you**." The metallic voice continued.

"Give me that MRI." House gestured at the strip of paper on the edge of the table. He mouthed quickly to Wilson 'ACT NORMAL.' Wilson nodded and retrieved the sheet.

"**Ignore what is in the room**. **There is **_**nothing more **_**you can do. Good luck**." There was a soft click as the voice faded out.

"_What the hell was that_?" Wilson whispered as leaned down and laid the paper out.

"_Someone's got our back_." House concealed a grin. "_Or they at least know we're here_."

"Look at this spot." Wilson points to a meaningless speak on the paper. "It could be when the process sped up…_How do we know it's not a trick_?"

"_We don't_. Don't think so Wilson, but thanks for playing."

"What about the radiation again? _If we don't do anything they'll kill us!_"

"Do you see a source of radiation in here? _No, they won't._"

Wilson nodded, trying not to look confused. "I guess not. _What? Why?_"

Before House could tell him the door opened. He panicked for a moment, suspecting their conversation had been picked up. The Smoking Man entered, this time accompanied by the MPs and a man in a lab coat.

"Still no ideas on how to proceed Dr. House?"

"I've had ideas from the start." House replied casually. "They just need tweaking."

"Would you care to discuss them?"

"No."

Wilson glanced at House sharply. It was obvious that they were being constantly monitored. Their captors already knew about the irradiation idea, and why House didn't want to proceed. What was he doing?

"I suspect another bout of persuasion with your friend is in order." The Smoking Man replied.

House shot an uneasy glance at Wilson. "You leave him out of this."

"Dr. House, you're wasting my time." He nodded at the first MP. The gaurd retrieved a gun from its holster and pointed it squarely between Wilson's eyes.

"No!"

"Relax Dr. House. We have no need to kill either of you just yet." The Smoking Man assured him. "This is mearly to ensure Dr. Wilson's compliance."

"My…?" Wilson's confusion melted away as the nameless doctor held up a syringe. "Oh."

"This, gentlemen, is essentially a liquid version of what Dr. House ingested four days ago." Smoking Man said. "And in lieu of Dr. House sharing his theories, the men in charge feel we should at least gain a new test subject."

"Alright, I'll tell you what I thought of." House said quickly. "Just get that stuff away from him."

"I'm sorry Dr. House, but that is no longer an option." Smoking man shrugged. The nameless doctor pushed Wilson's sleeve back and swabbed his arm.

"What is wrong with you idiots?!" House yelled. "I'm willing to give you what you want!"

The man blew a cloud of smoke into the air. "I'm not an idiot, doctor. I am a man who does his job and does it well. Something you should identify with."

Wilson didn't turn away as the needle broke his skin. He was used to seeing things of that sort.

House swore loudly. "You don't want to see how I would try to fix it, you never did. What did you bring us here for? Why did you do this?"

"Why, it's simple, doctor. Bringing you here was a test. Something you do at the hospital all the time." Smoking Man sounded disinterested, and perhaps a tad dissapointed. "Like you, we did it to get the information we needed. And we _did _get what we needed."

Wilson drew in a sharp breath as the needle was pulled away. His vision was growing dim. Slowly, he leaned back until he touched the table.

"Oh _shit_. Wilson? Wilson, stay with me." House sounded alarmed.

"I really, really want to." Wilson half-collapsed, half laid down on the tabletop. House scrabbled as near to the edge as he could get. Suddenly the jokes about accidentally getting crushed didn't seem nearly as funny.

The nameless doctor and the MPs filed out quietly. Smoking Man just continued to work on his cigarette as he watched Wilson slip toward unconsciousness.

"You already got whatever you wanted." House growled. "And you've fucked-over Wilson to boot. Anything else you need here?"

"What would you do for a cure?"

This seemed to catch House off guard. "What else do you want from me?"

"House…don't." Wilson gave a weak wheeze.

"Another test, Dr. House. Answer a few questions, and you and Dr. Wilson get your lives back." Smoking Man said.

"No..." Wilson protested as he slipped under.

House fixed The Smoking Man with a stare. "Fire away."

-

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

Getting More Like Fiction Each Day, Chapter Thirteen

By GirlX2

Disclaimer: I don't own House, Wilson, or anybody else. Just borrowing.

This is The End, my only friend, The End. Hope you enjoyed the ride.

-

When Wilson opened his eyes House was peering down at him from a very great height. In fact, from an absolutely _giant _height. Giant scale as well. It seemed as though he and House had swapped sizes. Panic jumped to the front of Wilson's mind, but only for a moment.

"Oh yeah. I _like _this dream." He murmured softly and closed his eyes. Of course he was dreaming. He was still knocked out in that government lab, but he was having that dream again. At least something good had come of it.

"Wilson?" House placed an impossibly large finger on his chest. "Open your eyes. You're scaring me."

'That doesn't sound right.' Wilson frowned slightly. This wasn't how the dream had gone last time. He opened his eyes. House was still a giant, and still looked concerned. Wilson began to feel anxious. Perhaps this dream was different from the last one. It might even be a nightmare.

House poked him gently in the chest. "C'mon Jimmy. I know you're not at your best when you first wake up, especially after being drugged, but it's not that complex."

They were back in House's apartment. House's apartment that was hundreds of times its normal size.

It was then that Wilson noticed that he was clad in what seemed to be his best silk handkerchief. And he was sitting on top of the doll bed, which resided on top of the recently cleaned-off piano.

And he was only nine inches high.

"Oh my God!"

"And the last horse finally gets to the gate." House nodded down at him in approval.

"What the hell happened?!" Wilson shrieked. "When…How…"

"That is actually where you came in, wasn't it?"

"How did you get back to normal?!" He managed.

"Simple. Smoking Man was actually telling the truth." House said calmly

Wilson cried out as House's fingers wrapped around him. Logically he knew House wouldn't do anything to hurt him, but he was far too terrified to consider anything logically at this point. For his part, House seemed almost confused by the reaction.

"Don't!" He slammed his eyes shut as House picked him up.

"Why not? You're not scared of heights."

"House, put me down!" Wilson said through clenched teeth. "Tell me what happened!"

"Which first?"

"HOUSE!"

"Okay, okay, calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." House said soothingly.

Wilson kept his eyes screwed shut until House placed him back onto the doll bed and uncurled his fingers. The older man looked genuinely concerned by Wilson's fright. Wilson just gaped up at him for a few minutes, trying to comprehend the situation.

"He…he gave you the cure?" The Oncologist finally managed.

"He thinks he did. I already had it figured out."

"_What?!"_

"Look, if you're going to question every little thing and drag this out I'm going to hold you. You're going to get cold fairly fast once your pulse drops." House leaned down, trying to get a better eye line.

"Noooo." Wilson scooted away from him, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. "I don't think so."

"You didn't seem to mind when our positions were swapped."

"When our positions were swapped I wasn't an eighth of my normal size!" Wilson said shrilly.

"It didn't bother me that much."

"You had time to get used to the idea! I just woke up tiny!"

"This is what I get for bothering to listen to a patient." House grumbled.

"I am not a patient, I--Put me down!" Wilson cried out as House scooped him up with both hands. Oh, this wasn't good. House having this much control over anyone, let alone Wilson, didn't bode well.

"It's alright." House slowly and carefully lifted him to eye-level.

"It is _not _alright. This is the least alright I've ever been." Wilson clutched one of House's fingers in panic. "I'm the size of a doll and you're holding me."

"You're safe, I'm not going to crush you. Stop fussing over nothing." House replied.

"You call this nothing?"

"Again, this is why I'm holding you. You insist on dragging everything out." House looked bored. "Even if I can't shut you up long enough so I can explain, I won't let you freeze."

"Fine, explain!" Wilson said angrily. Dreams aside, he did _not _like being picked up in this manner.

"Alright. First of all, the cure was to do nothing."

"…What?"

"The pills have the cure built in. Any attempts to fix it will either result in stopping the present cure, or over-blowing it."

"Like in the rats?"

"Yep. It's really ingenious. If they slip the pills to an enemy, the doctors from Kaza-Paki-Turk-istan will do what my fellows did and wreak everything. Use them on your spies and in a few days everything's back to normal." House grinned. "Your tax dollars at work."

"You had this figured out when Smoking Man came back to drug me." Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. A normal gesture in an insane situation.

"Yeah, but whoever contacted us gave me the final clue." House shrugged. "And by playing dumb I've dissuaded them from keeping us there or trying to use me in the future."

"You're not worried about some random person knowing all about this situation?"

"No, because they helped us. If whoever it was had it in for us, they wouldn't have done anything." House replied.

Wilson found it hard to argue with this and decided to move on. "What was The Smoking Man asking about before I passed out?"

"He wanted to know about our relationship." House's expression darkened at this.

"Oh." There wasn't really anything else to say.

"So now there's some government file with our names and a rainbow sticker on it." House grumbled. "He already knew, of course. He just wanted to see if I'd lie about it."

"That's it?" Wilson asked in disbelief. "But that's so simple."

"That's all he _told _me. I'm sure there's more to it." House replied. "I think they might have actually wanted to see how I'd proceed with the cure, at least at first. Once they thought that I wasn't going to figure it out, they decided to see if using you to get at privileged information would work."

"I really wish people would stop doing that." Wilson muttered.

"I don't particularly enjoy it either. Especially since I now have to take care of you for four days."

"Four days?"

"Until you're back to normal, idiot." House rolled his eyes. "You body is stabilizing today and the process will begin to reverse tomorrow night, but you've still got the rest of today and tomorrow at this size."

"Come to think of it, why are _you _back to normal?" Wilson demanded. "If that's how it works shouldn't you only be at quarter scale?"

"I would be, if this was the day after we got kidnapped. You've been asleep for three days."

"What?" Wilson was getting very tired of saying this.

"The trank kept you out until you were done shrinking." House shrugged. "No such luck for me. They knocked me out, but I woke up here the next morning, at quarter scale. _That _was a pain. Luckily I had some vicodin stashed in a low bookshelf." House limped over to the couch.

He gently placed Wilson on the coffee table as he set about making himself comfortable. Wilson took a few moments to look at his surroundings. Everything was just so…_huge_. The glass of water next to him was as tall as he was. He stepped away from it nervously. Glasses of water weren't supposed to be that big.

"It's a good thing we got all that extra clothing." He finally managed, turning back to House.

"I had one hell of a time trying to get you half-decent, too. Your stupid silk hanky won't stay pinned for anything. Where are the extra clothes anyway?" House questioned as he lay back.

"In the chest of drawers that I bought." Wilson said.

"You've got to be kidding me. You bought a miniature chest of drawers for the doll clothes?"

"I know it offends all your bachelor sensibilities, but things do need to get put away." Wilson put his hands on his hips. His fear had quickly given way to annoyance.

House began to snicker. "You have no idea how incredibly funny you look right now. You're like Jewish-mom Barbie."

Wilson glared at him which just made the older man laugh harder.

"Sorry Wilson, the death-glare isn't working. I guess Chase was right about the mini-factor. You _are _a lot cuter this way."

"I don't recall laughing at you." Wilson turned away from him and crossed his arms.

"Oh, hey, don't be like that." House managed between chuckles.

"No. You went on and on about how you deserved the same respect no matter how small you were. You're being a hypocrite."

The laughs trailed off. There was a tired sigh. "I'm sorry, okay?"  
_  
That_ was different. Wilson turned back to him slowly, expecting another peal of laughter. House didn't laugh again, though. He almost looked contrite.

"I guess it's not really your fault. This is...fairly absurd." Wilson amended.

"I'd say absurd describes it pretty well." House agreed. Now that he was settled in, he gently picked Wilson back up and held him at eye-level. "So…what was that you said earlier about a dream?"

_-_

_Epilogue_

-

The ensuing four days didn't turn out as bad as Wilson had thought. House had actually been pretty nice about the whole thing (when he wasn't laughing anyway). He'd enjoyed handling Wilson far too much, though. It wasn't uncomfortable or anything, just…weird.

The worst thing had been when House stopped in at PPTH to refill his vicodin. Wilson had gone along (not that he'd had much choice in the matter), and House couldn't resist showing him to the Ducklings and Cuddy. Now that the danger was gone from the situation everyone found it highly amusing (except Wilson). Cameron and Cuddy had fawned over him as if he were a kitten, while the men made an obscene amount of short jokes. House, of course, kept Wilson in his pocket as he went around the Hospital. At least he'd been considerate enough to wear a jacket with large pockets so Wilson hadn't been squished.

The reality of being tiny, Wilson reflected, wasn't as terrible as he'd initially feared. House had made fun of him after he'd repeated the dream scenario, but not in scathing way. He had actually made an honest effort to keep Wilson comfortable during the whole thing. Granted, this usually involved holding him for warmth, but it was a nice thought (Something of a rarity from House).

By the third day he'd grown to quarter scale, and should have been able to get around without House carrying him everywhere. House didn't share this opinion, and didn't let Wilson out of his sight. Normally Wilson would have chalked this up as very strange behavior on House's part, but it was hardly a normal situation. And after all, he'd acted much in the same manner when their positions had been switched. Once he'd gotten back to half his normal size House had stopped watching him like a hawk. He still wouldn't leave the apartment, but he didn't have to be in the same room as Wilson at every moment.

The last bit of trouble happened when Wilson tried to cook. He'd long ago gotten sick of takeout and wanted desperately to whip something up. Upon actually going into the kitchen he began to doubt weather or not he'd be able to physically do the work.

'It's funny. I never thought of cooking as something that would be hindered by size.' He thought upon finding himself eye-level with the knobs on the stove.

House peeked into the kitchen. "Having a little trouble there 'Webster'?"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Laugh all you want, but I was going to make the garlic chicken you like."

"That's different." House made his way in. "What do you need help with?"

"Basically? Everything." Wilson sighed. "I can do the prep work, but that's about it."

"The rest of it's just turning knobs anyway." House said dismissively. "I'll get the stuff out."

The rest of the evening had consisted of Wilson standing on a kitchen chair to prepare the food, House burning nearly the entire meal from setting it too high, and eating what could be salvaged. Both doctors, spent from the effort, retired to the couch afterwards.

Wilson lay snuggled next to the older man. House was stroking his hair absentmindedly. Something that a week ago would have seemed just as insane as the situation itself.

"This weekend do you want to bring your stuff back here?" House asked suddenly.

"What, move back in?"

"Yeah."

"I…I think that would be good." Wilson said slowly.

"Cool." House ruffled his hair affectionately.

"You know I hate that." Wilson rolled his eyes and smoothed his coif back into place.

"Yeah, I do." House agreed, mussing it again. Wilson sighed in mock frustration and lay his head on the older man's chest.

'Well,' He thought 'At least one good thing came out of this insanity.

As House drifted off, Wilson snuggled in his arms, he felt a little wistful. It would be great when they were both back to normal (he was definitely looking forward to having full-sized Wilson back the following night), but he suspected he'd _occasionally_ miss this. It wasn't often he got to take care of someone he actually liked. It was especially appealing when he could mercilessly tease that someone at the same time, and get out of work to do it.

Wilson was just so cute when he was forced to rely on House. He didn't become docile or compliant, just the same Wilson in a smaller variety. He certainly didn't take any of House's actions or teasing lying down either (Unless that was the idea...). He hadn't even been scared after the first few hours. Wilson had simply done what he did best in strange situations-he ajusted. And Wilson mini-fied and acting like everything was completly normal was somehow the most endearing thing of all.

'Well.' House grinned wickedly. 'I do still have the rest of those pills.'

-

_Fin_


	14. Special Bonus Feature!

Special Bonus feature! House thinks about his and Wilson's relationship a few months after the story ends.

-

House didn't tell Wilson of his dream.

It began pleasantly enough. He and Wilson were at PPHT, eating lunch in the cafe as per usual. Wilson had been talking about one of his cancer kids when he got up to toss out the leftover trash from his meal. As Wilson stood his pants abruptly began to slide down his legs, forcing the doctor to grab at them.

House broke out in gleeful laughter. "I know you're trying to drop a few pounds Wilson, but that may be a bit much."

"That's not funny." Wilson replied, looking angry and a tad alarmed. "They fit fine this morning."

"Uh-huh." House smirked at him. "Let's get you back upstairs before you traumatize someone."As House stood up Wilson took a step forward and went sprawling onto the floor.

"Remind me, were you drinking water or vodka?"

"My pant leg tripped me." Came the reply as Wilson picked himself up.

House held in a snicker. "Looks like you have an excuse to go clothes shopping."

"I don't like clothes shopping." Wilson huffed as he hurried out and into an empty elevator. House followed him, barely catching up before the doors shut.

"Like it or not, I think you may have to go soon." House eyed him. "Because those clothes are all but falling off you. Not that that's a _bad_ thing…"

"Not right now!"

House watched as Wilson looked himself over. His clothing seemed to be sizes too big. Even the collar on the shirt was beginning to gape...

"Hang on." House swung his cane above Wilson's head, clipping him slightly.

"Ow! What was that for?" Wilson winced.

"Stand still." House replied, holding his cane aloft. He squinted at it for a few moments then nodded. "Well, that explains a lot."

"What explains a lot?" Wilson rubbed the sore spot on his head.

"You're shrinking."

"I'm WHAT?!"

"I'm holding my cane still and your head is no longer touching it." House's eyes gleamed. "Ergo, you're getting smaller. Plus you're staring straight into my chest. About five feet even I'd say, and rapidly diminishing."

"Oh…Shit." Wilson paled.

Now that he knew what to look for, it was painfully obvious to the older doctor. Wilson was shrinking fast, right out of his clothes. He looked up at House, fear clearly visible on his features.

"Don't worry, I'll figure out how to fix it." House sighed. "Let's just get you into my office before someone sees you."

"Great." Wilson groaned. "I feel _so_ much better."

"Here, hurry up." House grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hallway. Wilson stumbled over his oversized clothes but kept his balance. House closed the door to his office behind them, locked it, and drew the blinds.

"Why do weird things keep happening to me?" Wilson muttered.

"Us, Jimmy, not just you." House corrected him. "Although this is pretty high on the freak-o-meter."

Wilson, perhaps four feet tall now, kicked off the oversized pants and shoes. House quirked one eyebrow at him and grinned.

"_This_ is turning you on?" The Oncologist demanded.

"You being half-naked? Hell yes."

"You are unbelievable." Wilson reached up the pinch the bridge of his nose, but his hands were lost in his gigantic shirtsleeves. "Oh, for the love of God!"

"Not your day, huh?"

Wilson now resembled a toddler playing dress up. He couldn't have been more than three feet high. The shirt was all but falling off his narrow shoulders. He glared up at House, arms crossed.

"I don't suppose you'd like to help me instead of making sarcastic remarks?"

"I'd like to, but I'm drawing a blank. And unless this is an exotic new form of cancer, you're not going to have many ideas either." House said quietly. This might have been amusing at first, but it was rapidly losing it's entertainment value. At this rate Wilson would soon vanish entirely.

"Fantastic. I'm screwed." Wilson moaned.

"If that were the case it wouldn't be a problem. In fact…" House trailed off as Wilson abruptly vanished from sight. "Wilson?"

"I'm here!" The cry came from the floor. House's gaze traveled down to the pile of clothes now heaped at his feet. He couched down and spotted a tiny bump moving about inside the shirt. Very carefully he pulled the excess cloth aside. After a moment of searching he spotted the Oncologist. He looked to be about four inches high.

"What happened?" He looked dazed.

"To quote a great piece of literature: You almost went out like a candle." House replied.

"I…oh." Wilson seemed to come to his senses. He paled, realzing what had happened. "Oh, no! No way."

"Denial as an initial reaction. Interesting." House said, more to himself than Wilson.

" 'Interesting'? This is a disaster!" Wilson shot back. He clutched a portion of his shirt collar to his chest.

"It's not all bad. You've stopped shrinking." House pointed out. Relief washed over him. "You're fine."

"I don't want to be 'fine' I want to be _normal_!" Wilson wailed.

"Fat chance of that." House grinned. Now that the immediate danger was gone, he could relax. He removed Wilson's handkerchief from his coat pocket and offered it to the smaller man. "Here."

He watched in amusement as Wilson grabbed the cloth and retreated under the shirt to wrap it around himself. "There's really no sense in being bashful. I've already seen you naked, and I'll see you naked again."

"Well you're not seeing me naked at work," came the reply. Wilson emerged a few moments later draped toga-style in the cloth. "Oof. I never noticed how heavy this fabric was."

"It's not, you're just a point ninety-nine ounce weakling." House smirked. Very gently he reached down and gripped the little doctor between his thumb and forefinger.

Wilson looked up, alarmed. "What are you doing?"

"Well I can't leave you down there." House replied. "It's too dangerous for a cute little thing like you."

"Don't call me a thing." Wilson protested as House picked him up.

"I know, 'objectifying your partner is bad', blah blah." House rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you never let me have any fun."

"Your idea of fun is warped enough without adding this into the mix!" Wilson growled. "Now are you going to try and fix this or what?"

"Well, if you're going to have that attitude maybe I'll just leave you this way." House said, grinning. Wilson being both metaphorically and literally in the palm of his hand had its own amusement potential. "I've always wanted an Oncologist action figure."

"House!"

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to change you back." House replied, drawing the shades in his office. "It could take a while though. I'm sure we can find something to entertain ourselves in the meantime."

"Doing what?" Wilson asked hesitantly. He looked a little green around the gills.

"Not _that_. What are you, sick?" House wrinkled his nose. "I don't even want to think about the schematics of doing that when you're this size."

Wilson didn't look much relieved. "Then what are you planning?"

House sat down at his desk and shrugged. "Well, have you ever wanted to eat your body weight in ice cream? I could buy a half-pint of Ben and Jerry's and you'd be all set."

"Um, no."

"Well, I could get some whipped cream and then-"

"No." Wilson cut him off.

"Really? Because I'm sure we have some left over."

"Number one: not when I'm this small. Number two: not at the office." Wilson was standing on his palm, hands on his hips. House brought him to eye level.

"You are really tiny." He marveled.

"Just what every boyfriend wants to hear."

House fixed him with a smile that could almost be sweet. "You've got to admit, this is pretty cool. Having you literally in hand could be fun."

" 'Cool' or not, I don't like being this size. Everything is much bigger than it should be, and if the wrong person saw me I could be in real danger. I know some people would just love to play with me. A lot of them wouldn't understand that I'm still a real person." Wilson said worriedly. "They would treat me like a doll."

"Well, you certainly primp enough to pass for Ken." House smirked.

"It's not funny." Wilson's eyes were downcast. "If someone did treat me like that I couldn't do anything about it. I'm practically helpless."

This struck hard at House. He silently cursed the fact that Wilson was too small for him to administer some sort of physical comfort. That only left him with verbal, which he wasn't nearly as good at.

"You are not helpless." He kept his voice steady. "Having me at your beck and call is pretty far away from helpless."

That seemed to do the trick. The fear faded from his lover's eyes. "That is true, unless I want something that requires us to use the stairs. Then we're pretty well screwed."

House rolled his eyes. "If I were you I wouldn't be making fun of the guy who could stick me in a mason jar and put me on display."

"Mm-hm." Wilson nuzzled his fingertip. House ran a finger lightly down his back, reciprocating the affection.

"House, don't! That _tickles_!"

"I'll bet." House smirked. Wilson squirmed in his hand, but didn't seem to be trying to avoid the touch.

'Maybe physical comfort isn't off the table.' House thought wryly. Slowly, he started to stroke Wilson's thigh.

"What are you doing?"

"Remember what you said earlier about people wanting to play with you? Same general idea."

"You are a sick, sick man." Wilson shook his head.

"You're the one who's in love with me. That says way more about you than me." House replied.

"House, this is neither the time nor the place to..._ahhh_, that's not fair." Wilson's protest was cut short when House hit a sweet spot.

"I'm just trying to make you feel better." House said innocently.

"The hell you are, you're taking a power trip. I think you actually like that I'm--"

House grinned as Wilson's entier body twitched as when slid down the solar plexus. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that. I like that you're what?"

"You...jerk." Wilson managed. "Put me down."

For an instant House thought about refusing. It wasn't as if Wilson could actually do anything to stop him...

'Stop it, or you'll be doing exactly what he was afraid of.' An analytical voice said coldly. 'Or do you actually care about what he wants? If you don't now would be a fine time to stop pretending. He's completly at your mercy.'

This thought intstantly pulled House out of his playful mood. He set Wilson down on the desk.

"That's better." Wilson sounded a bit more composed. He took a few moments to straighten his toga.

"I'm going to call my Ducklings in to help figure this out." House said, trying to get his mind off what had just happened. He felt sick. It had taken mere minutes for him to transition from seeing Wilson as person to seeing him as an object.

'That's nothing new.' The analytical voice continued. 'You see most people as objects--Puppets, riddles, puzzles, whatever you want. Not such a big jump to add a doll."

'I'm not. He isn't.' House thought dully as he reached for the phone.

"I wouldn't do that." A third voice growled from behind him.

House didn't spin around. Even if his leg permitted it, it would have been was completely undignified. He slowly, deliberately, turned.

Leaning nonchalantly against the wall was Tritter.

The face of the Detective was frozen in a pensive smirk. He had his gun trained on the Diagnostician.

House reached back and curled his fingers protectively around Wilson.

"House-"

"It's okay." House said grimly. His eyes stayed on Tritter's gun. It was pointed squarely at his chest.

"Dr. House." Tritter nodded politely.

"Detective. What brings you to my office?"

Tritter gave a dry, mirthless laugh. "I'd say 'revenge' and cackle manically, but it would be clichéd."

"Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor." House said warily, eyeing the gun.

"When you've lost everything else, humor is generally all there is." The amused expression did not reach Tritter's eyes. They were almost blank.

"He's lost his mind." Wilson whispered.

"Temporary insanity." Tritter corrected him. "Looks much better on the court transcripts."

"I'm glad you thought this through." House took a slow step back and bumped into his desk.

"Stop." The gun was cocked.

"Okay, but in another hour or so I'm really going to need to sit down."

Tritter still looked vaguely amused. "Now, are you going to hand your little friend over or do I have to kill you first then take him?"

"Leave Wilson alone." House growled.

"Not an option. I slipped him the drugs that did this, and I'll be getting him either way Dr. House. For some God-forsaken reason he seems to prefer you alive." The false mirth vanished. "So, which will it be?"

"House, do it." Wilson said quietly.

"No."

"Getting yourself killed and leaving me with him isn't going to help. Do it." Wilson sounded calm but was trembling in his hand. He was right, of course. House keeping himself from getting killed was their only shot at getting out of this. But handing him over…

"Please."

'Damn.'

Slowly, House extended the hand holding Wilson to Tritter. His fingers uncurled, removing the last bit of protection Wilson had.

He shot an uneasy smile at House. "It'll be okay."

"I wouldn't go that far." Tritter un-ceremonially plucked Wilson from House's fingertips. "There's a long day ahead of us."

"Don't you dare-" House took a step forward.

"OW! Don't, please!" Wilson cried out, cutting House off. Tritter was squeezing the little doctor. "I can't breath!"

"I suggest you step back." Tritter growled at House. The diagnostician did so, quickly. Tritter eased his grip and Wilson drew in a gasp.

"You do anything I deem remotely funny Dr. House and your little doll will be the one who suffers."

"Let him go." House said angrily. "He's not the one you're pissed at, why are you-"

"It's easier to break a man's body than his spirit, but your body is already broken. Ergo, I go for the spirit, all of which seems to be centered on him." Tritter looked slightly bored. "I should have known the two of you were screwing. He's to prissy to be straight."

House glared at Tritter. "You're a homophobe on top of everything else? That figures You're already an idiot and a jerk."

Tritter gave him a bored look and slowly revolved his hand, leaving Wilson hanging upside down. Wilson slammed his eyes shut and emitted a tiny whimper.

"Think a fall from this height would break his neck? Leave him paralyzed? Kill him outright? You're the doctor, you tell me." He punctuated the remark by uncurling two of his fingers.

"Stop it." House choked out.

Smirking, Tritter turned his hand palm-up. Wilson lay sprawled across it, panting heavily.

"Please…you don't have to do this…"

"Aw, sounds like the poor little doll is scared."

"Stop that." House managed a growl. "He's a human being, not a fucking plaything."

"Really." Tritter took a long moment to re-holster his gun. With Wilson literally in hand he didn't need anything else to keep House in line. "Seems that you were playing with him for years, Doctor House."

This stopped House cold.

"Don't listen to him." Wilson managed. "It's not the same thing at all. You wouldn't hurt me."

"He would. He has." Tritter smirked. "And he'll do it again. Hell, it's his fault you're being hurt right now-"

Wilson cried out as Tritter twisted his arm.

"See?"

"I'll kill you for this." House said quietly. He tightened his grip on his cane, wondering how hard he would have to swing it to bash the detective's head in.

"You know I'm right." Tritter released Wilson's arm. "He trusts you, you abuse that trust and hurt him. Just like all your relationships."

House tried to fire back at the detective, but was at a total loss. Tritter _was_ right. He'd played with Wilson's emotions for the entier span of their friendship, and he'd nearly disregaurded him totally only minutes ago.

Tritter slowly moved his hand over the edge of the bookcase and dropped Wilson onto it, eliciting a frighten shriek from the doctor. House restrained himself from leaping forward. Tritter could snatch Wilson right back up long before he could begin to get into position.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Wilson winced as he climbed to his feet.

"Dr. House injures everyone he interacts with. It's a simple fact." Tritter finally addressed Wilson directly, glowering down at him.

"He doesn't." Wilson replied. "He makes them stronger."  
"The hell he does." Tritter growled.

"You can't understand it, and that makes you afraid." Wilson continued calmly. "That's why you used me to get to him. You fear him."

"Well then, lets see how this grabs him." Tritter swung his hand forward and knocked Wilson off the shelf.

House wasn't even aware that he'd leapt forward until he was on top of Tritter. It didn't matter that the detective had cracked his head on the desk, it didn't matter if he was still conscious and able to fire his gun, all that mattered was grabbing Wilson out of midair before he hit the floor.

House could hardly believe it when he felt the featherweight doctor land in his outstretched fingertips.

Wilson gave him a rather weary smile. "I knew you wouldn't let me get hurt."

-

House didn't sit up in bed gasping for air, although it would have been more dramatic if he had. He jerked awkwardly out of his dream, clutching his sleeping partner tightly. Wilson lay snuggled to his side, head on his bare chest.

In the light of day House knew he'd be able to shake the dream off as mental garbage, junk output from a busy mind. For now he snuggled a little closer to Wilson. Wilson, safe in his arms, not being abused by an insane detective out for revenge.  
Or by a Misanthropic Doctor who had problems with limits.

'It's not a game anymore. This is for keeps.' House thought as he drifted back into dreamless sleep.

And he was okay with that.

-

_Fin_


End file.
